


Hollowed Out

by rinskiroo



Series: A Forgotten Star [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Hearts, Broken people, Canon-Typical Torture, Drama, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied Rey/Finn, Minor Character Death, Not TLJ-compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Sequel, The Force, Time Skips, mild depictions of graphic violence, no TLJ spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-27 20:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 88,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10816224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinskiroo/pseuds/rinskiroo
Summary: While Poe is on his way to Jakku to secure the map to Luke Skywalker, Euli goes to Hosnian Prime to handle her own affairs.  At the hands of Kylo Ren, Poe loses more than just Resistance secrets.  When they cross paths again, nothing is the same.Sequel to"Lost Valor; Forgotten Stars."Takes place during and after "The Force Awakens."





	1. The Assassination of Coten Donam

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Taff](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tafferling) and [Pug](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pugmaster) for being amazing betas and friends. <3
> 
> This is the sequel to ["Lost Valor; Forgotten Stars."](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8689894/chapters/19922074) Reading that first is _highly recommended_. The other two works in the series aren't necessary for understanding the story, but may provide extra insight and information.

**Hosnian Prime**

**Shortly Before the Destruction of the Hosnian System**

 

“Don’t bother,”  a harsh voice, clear, Core-world accent, called from the darkened room.  “I’ve already disabled your security systems.”

The top floor apartment was large and open; a great transpirsteel wall overtook the entirety of the side looking out on the metropolitan city beyond.  The intruder, a woman, sat in the seat in front of the great window.  She rocked back and forth with slight, anxious movements.  In her hand was a blaster and she waved it at him to move further into the room.

“Who are you?”  he asked.  “What do you want?”  His accent was practiced, carefully cultivated over the decades of living amongst the most affluent and influential of the galaxy, despite the planet of his birth being one of the most far-flung in the Outer Rim.

The lights lifted slightly, illuminating her features.  She had a mess of short, black hair, tufted and uneven as if she had recently cropped it herself.  She was young, early thirties at most, though if he could see her eyes, they would speak of something older, a heavy burden that still dragged on her.

“Come now, _Senator_.”  She sneered at his title.  “Don’t you recognize me?  By your reckoning I should have only aged a year, two at most.  Or was our meeting so insignificant, your part in our shared murder so forgettable?”

It took him several moments standing there staring in bewilderment.  Perhaps he was still trying to figure out how to call for help, or guessing at how to get the blaster away from her.  He watched her carefully, trying to pull the pieces together.

_"Hello, Senator, welcome to our humble base,”  a General said to him, smiling and shaking his hand, trying to impress.  They walked the grounds and he pointed out training yards, hangar bays, and on and on of what the Republic had built.  “And this is our starfighter commander, Major Avedis.”_

_“Senator.”  She stood with her hands firmly clasped behind her back wearing a look that told she was only standing there because she had been ordered to do so.  The woman was pretty enough, even in the gaudy orange jumpsuit zipped all the way up to her throat.  He wondered if her scowl was permanent._

_He had seen that scowl break into a dead rage._

_“They were terrified!”  She lurched at him, her entire body vibrating with fury._

His hand unconsciously went up to rub at his throat and the corner of her lip ticked up into a smirk as he finally recognized who she was.  The shock and fear on his face was so worth every long second it took for him to make the connection.  “You’ve gotten so old, Senator.”

His face hid his age well, thanks to a myriad of treatments including the reconstructive efforts he had undergone after she had crushed the bones in his face with her fists.  Still, there were lines evident around his eyes and grey at his temples, though, the grey was obviously there to make him look distinguished.  The rest of his hair was an unnatural uniform brown.  The last time he had seen her, it had been the forum of her court martial—over twenty-five years ago.  Somehow, Euli Avedis looked as young as she had back then.  She had to be in her fifties, at least.  She should have been grey and wrinkled and set with a slowing metabolism, but she was fit and trim and…

“How?”  was the only word Senator Donam could get out.

“Don’t ask me the science behind it, but I know it was your doing.  Velvet Corp—what an _idiotic_ name by the way—was one of _your_ shell companies.”  She jabbed the blaster towards him in enunciation, slowly getting to her feet.  “Thought if you could get me out of the picture no one would find out?  No one would know what you had done?”

“The galaxy has changed, Major—“

“Don’t you call me that!”  she screamed at him.  Her hand holding the blaster pumped forward emphatically.  She had been so proud.  So glad to be able to continue on with the Republic’s new Navy after the Concordance and the disarmament began.  Even if she didn’t want to have to go to Ossus, didn’t want to be a part of whatever Jedi nonsense the Republic wanted to revive.  She would still get to fly.  Still get to defend what she had helped build.  If only her father could have seen what she had done—the skill she didn’t know she had, the confidence and the pride that she carried.  Of course, that had been before.

She hoped that he felt right now as he had that day on the floor of that hangar bay turned triage center.  She hoped that he was terrified of her the way those children had been terrified knowing that the dark side was coming for them.

“Has it changed so much that they won’t care you bought your seat with credits soaked in blood?  Do you think the people in the Auril sector won’t care that their votes haven’t meant a damn thing in twenty years?”

The Senator scoffed.  He still stood still, not willing to chance an itchy trigger finger, but his shoulders lost a bit of tension and his lips curled into a mocking sneer.  “Your friend the Chief made the same threats years ago.  A lot of good that did her.  She didn’t have the guts—knew what going to war with the Senate would do to her perfect little lie of a life.  And her kids.”

Euli’s teeth clenched; her limbs trembled with barely checked anger.  Bitter tears had collected in the corners of her eyes and were threatening to drip down her cheeks, but no, she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.  “You killed her,”  she ground out.

His shoulders just shrugged.  It mattered so little to him.  “Come on, girl.  You have a second chance at life.  Go out there and enjoy a galaxy at peace.”

A galaxy at peace?  Did he not know?  Or was he involved?  Or was this what Poe and others in the Resistance meant when they complained about a complacent Republic?  Poe… the man grew up in a galaxy recovering from war.  He saw the world through eyes so different from anyone born before the Empire.  They had fought that war so that the next generation wouldn’t have to, but Poe was out there fighting would-be Imperials and aspiring armadas.  There hadn’t been real peace, just the passing of the torch of war to the next generation.

“Maybe she was afraid.  But I don’t have anything left to lose.”  As a tear escaped, slipping down her cheek, she reached over to a side table and picked up a datapad.  While still keeping her blaster trained on the Senator, her fingers slid across the screen.  “Should only be a few moments now.”

“What did you do?”  He gave her a sideways glance, unsure but still confident.

“Treason.  But in truth this time, not fabricated.”  She placed the datapad on the glass table and slid it over towards him, motioning with the blaster for him to pick it up and look.  “Any HoloNet reporter worth their salt will want to verify the documents first, but I imagine the ethics committee and the investigative bureau will probably want to get it straight from the source.”

“And you’ll stick around for that?”  he scoffed again as he picked up the pad.  Still looking as if this entire situation was more of a half-amusing annoyance than any real threat.

“Oh, no, Senator.  I’m not the source.  You are.”

He glanced down at the datapad in his hands.  File after file after file was being sent across the HoloNet, to reporters, politicians, police.  Every clandestine communiqué he had made, every string that found its way between some fictitious corporation and his office, every transfer of credits.  He hit the screen, trying to get it to stop, over and over, but it was too late.  All of those precious exabytes were out there for the galaxy to dissect and devour.  They would devour him before long.

Those old eyes looked up at her, his executioner.  It was all unraveling.  It had started to unravel decades ago, but he had stemmed the bleeding.  He’d shifted the blame and found a patsy.  Carefully, he had rebuilt his defenses, securing those around him.  He thought he had found safety with the other Centrists, but the Outer Rim commoners he represented would turn on him, egged on by an unforgiving press.  If there was one thing the dainty Senate hated, it was a scandal.  Coten Donam would be on the outs by morning.

“Well, then do it already!”  he shouted at her, his fear and anger at once switched on.  No longer was he amused, no longer did he underestimate the threat she posed.

Her eyes blinked, forcing away any remaining tears.  The blaster still gripped in her hand, pointed at him.

“I killed her, you stupid bitch!  I told Dravin where to find the base on Ossus, how to get past the defenses, when Skywalker would be back at the Capital!”  He was practically salivating through his confession, goading her further.

Her fingers curled tighter around the weapon, just barely pressing against the trigger.  It would be so easy, and she wouldn’t even feel guilty, not really.  Not this time.  Out of all the lives she’d taken, his would hardly even count.  If there was a tally somewhere of her awful deeds, she could afford one more.

“Dravin came to me, found us in the far hangar.  He _asked_ me for those kids.  Do you think I even hesitated?  Do you think I gave a shit when that little girl started crying?”

Her head shook, the tufts of black hair bouncing slightly with the movement of her head.  She tried to bite back the tears again, but they were slipping unrestrained down her face at the image of that poor little girl.  If the murder of Coten Donam would be barely a hash mark on her foul list, surely Pu’neet’s filled a volume.  “How could you.”

_It’s better that I died.  Than become a tool for evil._

Pu’neet, the Chagrian girl she had killed, the ever-present sprite in her conscience.  She had so trusted the Force, given herself to its will.  And somehow, in death, they had become inexplicably linked.  Euli wondered if it was some punishment, to remind her of her terrible decisions.  Yet, she cherished the girl’s voice and the little bit of hope and goodness that managed to seep through from the other side.

“You never would have been their weapon,”  Euli said quietly to the voice only she could hear.

He glanced around the room, wondering who she was talking to, and then scoffed out a harsh laugh.  “Just as crazy.  Stupid, crazy bitch.  Only got that posting out of pity—if I had known, I would have told that Sith you were there, too!  Go on!  Do it!”  he screamed again at her, his own tears of fear and rage coalescing and streaking down his reddened cheeks.

How much time had passed?  Euli hadn’t been paying attention.  There was a buzzing on her wrist comm though.  R6-N1 was sending a warning.  The blaster lowered and she looked at it in her trembling fingers.  “I want to kill him.”  For a very long time, it had been the only thing she wanted.

_I know you do.  Every choice is a path we walk.  You do not take the step until you make the choice._

It was as if suddenly she was alone in the apartment.  Just her and two paths laid out before her feet.  One was hard-packed and worn, a path she had tread many times—the path of impulsiveness and selfishness, the one where she stuck her thumb at the galaxy.  It was dark, but it was familiar; it was also pain.  The other was warm, but it was thick with weeds and difficult terrain.  Euli never wondered at how other people thought of her, never thought to ask what someone else would do in her situation.  But she wondered, if Poe were here, which path he would choose.  It was harder than it should have been, and the moments felt like they dragged on for an eternity as she debated.  After the decision had been made, it seemed easier than it had to have been.

She set the blaster on the table.  The Senator looked from her to the weapon and then back to her, but she never looked back towards him.  His mouth hung open, shocked that she wouldn’t do it.  He was flustered and mumbling, trying to make words that made sense.  He tried to grab at her, to stop her from leaving because he wouldn’t face what was coming alone.  But Euli was young and strong and indifferent to his pleas.  She pushed him away from her and left.

As Euli walked away towards the twinkling city, several speeders with lights and sirens rushed on the building behind her.  She ducked her head and pulled the collar of her jacket up around her.  “Thanks, old friend.”

R6-N1 let out a terse whistle in response.

“You, too.”


	2. Unwanted Pests, Unexpected Guests

**Yavin IV**

**Approximately a Year After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

The wind picked up through the fields, knocking stalks of maize into each other and around the old rancher’s legs.  Short, undergrown, sickly little plants.  Kes Dameron pulled his cap off his head as he crouched down amid the swaying stalks.  His fingers reached out and dragged across the yellow and scarred leaves, not the bright green they should have been.  Rows and rows were affected now, having spread quickly in the unseasonably cooler weather.

“Didn’t you have this problem a few years ago, Dameron?”  There was a man standing just a few paces behind him, chewing on his lip as he looked out at the field.  He was an older fellow, near the same age as Kes.  They’d both been early adopters in the colony, though unlike many people of that age, Dato Kelter had always been a farmer, never a soldier.  Opportunistic farmer at that, having seized the chance at the untapped potential of the Yavin moon and the expansion of the Galactic North.  Though on the whole, he was still a good guy.  Kes was simple on the business side of farming, preferring to sell mostly locally, making just enough to keep the ranch running.  Dato exported all over the region, but hadn’t grown so big that he forgot his friends.

“Yeah.  Got it under control pretty quick.  Only lost about fifteen percent.”  Kes sighed and pushed himself back up to his feet, scratching irritably at his head before replacing his cap.

“Shoulda just replanted the whole field with more koyo trees.  You know those sell the best.”  Dato smirked.  It was a repeated point of contention between the two, and though Dato loved to bring it up, Kes knew he was joking, mostly.

“Gotta rotate the crops.  Replenish those nutrients.”  The age-old argument against filling the soil with chemicals and engineered minerals and instead doing it the way nature intended.  Though, Kes had given in and upgraded to some automation after his son had gone off to chase his own dreams.  Kes’ dream had always been to live life in a simple manner, which also turned out to be a slightly more difficult manner.

There was a small sucking noise from the other man as he continued to chew at his lip, not wanting to give his friend the poor prediction they both could see, or any more obvious advice.  “This whole harvest is gonna be a wash in a matter of days.  I won’t be able to get anti-bacterials or pesticides in the amount you need in that time.”

“Think they got any on Wetyin?”

Dato shrugged his shoulders.  “Maybe.  Smaller colony than ours, but I hear old Tamas is a bit of a hoarder.”

“I think he prefers the term ‘survivalist’,”  Kes snickered as he slapped his friend on the shoulder and started heading out of the rows of maize.  “Can I borrow your jumper?  Save on shipping fees?”

“My boy’s taking it out to the Mid-Rim in the morning, but I can have him drop you off.”

Kes frowned at the man, his brows crimping together.  “Drop me off?  I’m just gonna call the old coot and see what he has.  Not going all the way out there if I don’t have to.”

“I hear he gives discounts if you show up in person.”  Dato chuckled and shrugged his shoulders again.  “I guess we all get a little crazy in our old age.”

 

~*~

 

“Nice doin’ business with you, Dameron!  Hope this does the trick!”  Old Man Tamas called as Kes left his squat hut just at the edge of the very small colony.

“Better for that price…”  Kes grumbled under his breath as he waved an unenthusiastic farewell.

“Hey, you need a ride back?”

“No.”  It was a sharp, definitive refusal.  No way was Kes going to also pay for passage on a ship already going to his property.  He’d take a damn commercial transport and at least get a complimentary lunch out of it.

Kes was still grumbling to himself as he strolled through the town’s one central passageway.  It was more of a village than a proper town, with spread-out, squat little buildings along a wide, dusty road.  Tattered and faded cloth awnings hung over the fronts of the structures to keep out the sun.  There were a few other homely settlements spotted around the moon, but the one the Damerons lived near was the first and the largest.  While they couldn’t compare to anything farther in towards the Core, they had this dirty little speck beat, that was for sure.  Still, Kes strolled slowly down the road, checking out the carts parked along the road and the little stalls that had been erected, peddling a few wares.  Transport and docking fees were cheaper out here, so sometimes frugal travelers wanting to visit the moon would stop here first and then venture out.  At least the poor sods had that going for them.

At least, that’s the way it had been.  That was the way he remembered it.  These days, the one street was crowded and makeshift little camps had sprung up along the border of the colony.  Yavin IV was far enough away from the fighting, habitable, and had a reputation for being a small and welcoming community.  It was like a beacon for refugees and others trying to escape the war that spread across the galaxy.  Kes had seen it in his hometown, though not quite the numbers Wetyin was seeing.  It made his old heart hurt.

“Oh, these look good,”  he said, smiling to a middle-aged woman at her fruit stand.  He sampled a few small, sweet, green orbs and then bought a bushel from her.  They were native to this continent and didn’t seem to grow quite as sweet anywhere else.  He was enjoying the conversation when through the crowded street, his eyes caught something strangely familiar down at the far end.  So completely out of place and so strange that it had instantly caught his gaze.  He was certain his old eyes were playing tricks on him, but curiosity got the better of him.

Kes thanked the woman quickly and then took a few hurried steps further, pushing past other patrons.  What had snagged his attention first was the back of a woman’s head.  She had short, black hair, unevenly cropped and messy.  Her clothes hung loosely off her thin frame and she was carrying a bundle strapped to her front.  When she shifted the sack on her shoulder, Kes caught the splash of color painted there.  Though he’d never gotten a good look of it in the first place, it was too much of a coincidence.  She appeared to be conversing pleasantly with the baker, slipping a loaf of bread and another wrapped parcel into the sack dangling on her arm.  Kes took several slow steps towards her, that long-ago infiltrator training suddenly telling him to approach with caution, though he couldn’t fathom why.

The woman’s smile fell away as she handed over the cred stick to the vendor.  It was as if she had sensed someone’s eyes on her, watching her with more than just a passing interest.  She quickly hitched her sack up onto her shoulder and turned, keeping her back to whoever was watching.  Attempting to hide her identity, or perhaps protecting something else.  Kes took a few more quick steps in that direction, but then changed his mind, stopped, and sighed.  He had already spooked her, but he couldn’t understand why she would be running away.  And if she had known it was him, it really didn’t make any sense at all.

It had been a very long time, but Poe had warned him not to trust her—told his father that if she should ever come back to Yavin, to turn her away.  The boy had been injured and angry and never gave Kes a full accounting of why.  He hadn’t pressed, didn’t think it was his place, not to mention the timing of it was terrible.  The timing always seemed to be terrible.

Kes could have tracked her through the small settlement.  With the widely spaced, short houses and the open air vendor stalls, even with the crowds, she wouldn’t have many places to hide unless she darted out into the forest.  He didn’t want to scare her any further, didn’t want her to feel hunted.  He tracked her a different way.  He’d been pretty good at that sort of thing, once upon a time.

The spaceport was moderately busy for such a small, out of the way place.  A transport ran every few hours; there were travelers, merchants, and those displaced families.  Situated far out beyond the long stretch of worn permacreet were plots of beat-down yellow grass where those parking long-term could dock for a reduced rate.  It seemed his quarry had picked a spot as far away from any other ship as possible.     

It wasn’t that difficult to get into, not even locked.  A bit strange for how shifty she had been acting.  The inside of the freighter was tidy, but sparse, as if whatever hadn’t been attached to the ship had been sold off.  He stayed in the common room, not wanting to pry, but couldn’t help poking through the cupboards.  They were sparse as well: a few ration packs and a box of powdered milk.  He sighed, but closed the cabinet as he heard the ramp start to descend behind him.

There was a shuffling noise before she came up; she was dropping her packages and whatever else she was carrying outside before she came in to face the intruder.  When she stepped into Kes’ view, her arm was raised, a sharp, new, black and white blaster pistol pointed at him.  It was in harsh contrast to the dilapidated and barren freighter.  As recognition came over her features, however, her arm dropped to her side.  The woman’s face contorted from stiff alertness to a sad look of shame.

“Hello, Euli.  It’s been awhile.”  He tried to keep his voice as even and genial as possible, unsure what sort of reception he was about to receive.  “Why are you hiding out here?”

Euli glanced down at the blaster in her hand and let out a long breath before taking a few steps and dropping it onto the table.  Kes noted she didn’t have a holster and guessed she had likely been carrying it around in her bag.  Open carry wasn’t exactly common on the peaceful moon, but it wasn’t considered out of the ordinary either.  But the newness of the weapon and the distinct coloring betraying where she likely acquired it would raise some uncomfortable questions.  She opened her mouth to speak—to explain, perhaps—but was interrupted by a sharp cry from just outside the ship.

Kes’ eyes widened and his jaw fell slack, but before he could ask, she hurried back down the ramp.  He started to follow, but she reappeared quickly, bouncing the bundle of canvas in her arms.  Small little hands poked out, followed by a tiny head full of black curls as Euli pushed back the cloth covering the babe.

“I’m so sorry, Kes.”  Whether it was true regret that caused her voice to catch or nervousness at having been discovered, Kes didn’t know.  Frankly, he didn’t care.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth as he took the several steps to the two of them.  He could feel the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he smiled, for the moment struck nearly dumb.

“Her name’s Nadja,”  Euli told him quietly, shifting the bundle towards him.

As Kes gazed at the tiny creature, there was no doubt who her parents were.  He could see her mother in the slight shape of her nose and the soft curves of her cheeks, but in her dark eyes, the broad set of her forehead, and those thick, Dameron eyebrows, Kes saw his son.  He saw Poe.  Carefully, he gathered her up in his arms, her tiny, little body wrapped in the tan-colored sling.  Curious hands reached out towards him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”  It wasn’t a harsh question, just overwhelmed, if not a bit hurt.  Surely little Nadja’s parents had their reasons for sending them into hiding, for not telling him.  Part of him knew that later he’d probably be upset over missing out on those first few months, but he couldn’t find any anger inside himself while he was holding his granddaughter in his arms.  Euli didn’t seem to have an answer for him at that moment, and that was all right.  “Can you say ‘Pop’?”

The baby just gurgled and cooed, her little fingers squeezing together.

The corners of Kes’ eyes crinkled as he smiled and laughed lightly.  “You can have your papa’s old room.  He’s still got all those model X-Wings hanging from the ceiling, I’m sure you’ll like those.”

“We’re not going back with you, Pop.”  There wasn’t a whole lot of conviction in the way she had said it.  He could hear the fear, and guilt, and a bone-deep weariness.

“The hell you are,”  he said, lifting his eyes towards her.  Euli might have lacked the firm footing in whatever she was doing out here, but Kes was not letting them get away.  “Of all the places in the galaxy, you came _here._ You must have wanted me to find you.”

Kes reached out and put an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into a warm hug before he had to watch her stand there and cry.  He held her for a moment, until she took a couple short, shuddering breaths to pull back her composure.  Poor girl was exhausted, and probably malnourished.  He couldn’t imagine why she didn’t just come to him in the first place.  Why either one of them hadn’t said a damn word in over a year.

He would have never found them—never known this beautiful little girl even existed if old Tamas hadn’t been the only one hoarding the chemicals he needed.  Never would have needed those chemicals if the whole crop hadn’t been in danger from those nasty pests.  Never would have had such a pest problem if the moon had kept to its usual warm, humid days rather than the odd cooler winds they’d been having.  As they flew back to the Dameron homestead, over forests and oceans, Kes sat bouncing his grandbaby on his knee and thanking the Force for strange weather patterns.


	3. The Interrogation of Poe Dameron, Part 1

**Hosnian Prime // _Resurgent_ -class Battlecruiser _Finalizer_**

**Shortly Before the Destruction of the Hosnian System**

 

In the heart of the Core of the galaxy, on the current, sparkling, cosmopolitan Capital world, she felt it.  Several sectors away, in the Western Reaches of the Inner Rim, it had pulled at her so sharply, her body could not defend against the sudden anguish.

In the large, dusty apartment that had once been the home of her sister and brother-in-law, Euli doubled over and nearly cried out in pain.  A man, her dear nephew, rushed to her side.  He had been five the last time she’d seen him, and now he was nearly as old as she.  Tall and fair like his mother, but with the hard angles of his father.  He called her name and reached for her, but the world was spinning and the dagger being driven into her gut pierced her over and over.

Euli rolled onto the floor in absolute agony.  She must have been shot, or a bomb had gone off.  But when the pain momentarily passed, she pulled her hands away from her midsection.  There was no blood.  Gasping, she lifted her shirt away from her skin—no marks.  She was fine.

“Euli?  What happened?”  The look on Altus’ face was one of panic and worry.

Her head fell back onto the carpet as she sucked in huge swallows of air.  Her muscles burned from the tense spasms.  Her mind struggled to understand what had happened.  She pressed her fingers against where she had felt the assault, but there was no tenderness or pain besides the ache in her muscles.  “I… I don’t know.”

The relief only lasted that brief moment.  Her hips arched upwards as her body again contorted in distress.  Altus gripped her hands in his, only able to watch in desperation at whatever unknown fit had taken her.  He winced at the strength of her grip.  “I’m going to call the med center.”

“No!”  she shrieked at him.  She could _feel_ it, across the expanse of space as if he were just in the next room.  The barbs going into his skin, the shocks coursing through his muscles, the chemicals in his blood—how close they were in this torment.  “It’s Poe!”

Her grip relaxed as again whatever had afflicted Euli seemed to pass.  Altus pressed his hand to her face, her skin was flushed, but cool to the touch.  Her breathing labored, but not impaired.  “Commander Dameron?  Is that who you mean?”

Euli nodded as she tried to push away the pain that still ebbed in her muscles.  Tried to find the threads binding them together.  She spoke in ragged, halting breaths, her heart hammering loudly in her ears.  “They have him.  I need to contact the Princess.”

“Who?  What’s going on?”  Poor, confused Altus.  Oh, his father had told him of the Force.  His father bought into all the mysticism and the ancient lore, but Altus had always been rooted firmly in reality.  He was like his mother in that way.  As to who had Poe, there could only be one answer to that question.

“The First Order.  It must be.”

Altus sighed and shook his head, sitting back on his bottom and again taking her hand in his, stroking it in an attempt to be soothing.  “The First Order isn’t real.  Organa’s Resistance is chasing ghost stories.  Look, Dameron seems like a nice guy, but he’s on the wrong side in this.”

Euli shook her head; she didn’t have time to debate him.  She could feel the white hot needle pressing up against her temple, ready to dig in again.  “It’s not real,”  she told him.  Perhaps she was trying to convince herself.  She wasn’t the one this was happening to.  It was all in her head, but the tears leaking down the sides of her face betrayed the intensity.   “You can’t call anyone—no matter what happens.  Swear it!”

Altus swallowed, worry again etching his features as he watched his aunt try to fight off whatever strange sorcery was attacking her body, and likely her mind.  Again, her body twisted in pain and her fingers squeezed his tightly.  She was still staring at him, begging him to keep this a secret.  He nodded, and kept nodding, even as the spasms racked her body into unconsciousness.

 

~*~

 

There was a vague memory of a short briefing on torture, on the effects it could have on the body and the mind.  It covered the sorts of techniques used during the Empire, but it was taught in a philosophical way.  How horrible such a thing was.  How terrible those Imperials were to do such horrific things to other beings.  Wasn’t the galaxy lucky now that such things were in the past?  Theirs was a galaxy at peace.  If ever an officer of the Republic were to be captured, it would likely be by pirates or other scum who would quickly turn such a prize over for credits.  A prize that would be worthless if they broke it.

It was his father who had taught him the truth behind torture.  How those hooks dug right into the soul and how the mind would scream to just give up the answers, any answers.  For his father, and for all the others of that era, capture and torture were very real things.  They were not abstract concepts one spoke about in passing terms.  They had to be prepared for the possibility.  They had to know that death before capture was a far greater ideal, but if the worst should happen, they had to safeguard their secrets.  Protect the Rebellion at all costs.

Poe had resisted.

He had found the quiet place in his mind to retreat from the pain.  He wondered if perhaps the Force had been on his side, for the quiet place he went to was under the tree in his yard.  He sat on the damp grass on a warm day, his back resting up against the hard bark of the tree’s trunk.  Just a bit of sunlight made its way through the wide, thick leaves, but mostly he was draped in a pleasant shade.

His eyes opened just a crack as he winced slightly through the pain, just on the fringes of his awareness.  He lifted a hand to his face and when his fingers came away, he could see the blood.

_That’ll leave a mark._

_It’ll be all right.  You’ll still be my arm candy._

That was not a voice he had been expecting.  At least, not here.  Poe’s eyes lifted, staring out into the hazy, humid air.  His vision was blurred except for the clear picture of the tree and grass surrounding him.  He wasn’t really there on Yavin, just retreating into a memory.  But still he looked for where the voice had come from.  Standing just beyond his sight, fuzzy like a mirage hovering over sand or hot permacreet, it was her.

As she moved towards him, she came slowly into focus.  She was a dream to him: a beautiful, happy dream.  It hadn’t been that long since they’d been together, a few days, but he had missed her.  She had said goodbye, taken a piece of his heart with her.  He never thought this would be their next meeting, but it wasn’t, not really.  She crouched near to him, and how he wanted her to smile and tell him everything was going to be okay, but her brow was creased in pain and worry.

“Tell me where you are.  I’m going to get help.”  There was a terrified need in her voice; it was far too real.

He wondered… but no, that was not possible.  At least, not by what he knew.  But what did he know anyway?  What did anyone know about the true nature of the Force?

“I love you.  Didn’t say it before… you should know.”  Poe licked his lips, tasting the blood that had slipped down his cheek.  Even if she wasn’t really there, even if she would never hear the words, he still had to get them out.

Euli smiled at him, that amused, half-smirk curling her lips, her eyes shining in the muted, artificial light.  “Of course I know.”

The pain was ebbing away from his muscles in jittering spasms.  His head was pounding somewhere in the distance.  He wondered if he should chance opening his eyes, or slip fully into unconsciousness, or just stay here in this place—with her.  He had told them nothing.  Well, he had been flippant and rude at first, before he had retreated into this place.  He had told them nothing significant, nothing important.  He was a rock, chipped and bloody, but solid.

“Please, Poe, I’m going to come get you.”

“No,”  he said as firmly as he could muster.  He shook his head, but the sharp movement pinched his neck and he winced.  Was the pain coming or going?  Had his hosts stopped?  How bad was it, really?  He couldn’t tell, not here.  “Go to Jakku.  Find it.”

He watched the recognition wash over her features.  Where he had been, what he had been doing when he’d been captured.  All he had been working towards for over a year.

_Damnit, Euli.  The mission._

Somehow, she looked even more worried.  He must have looked awfully worked over, even here.  “Okay, we can go back to Jakku.  Together.”

Poe shook his head again, even though it hurt.  With a grunt, he braced himself on the tree and pushed himself up onto unsteady legs.  As much as he desperately wanted to get out of this situation, as much as he didn’t want to die, the Resistance had to find the map before the First Order.  They had to find Luke Skywalker and stop whatever manner of creature Kylo Ren was.  The Resistance, the Republic, hell, the whole galaxy depended on it.

He had to show her.  Euli didn’t understand the First Order, didn’t know the true threat they presented to the galaxy.  She believed the way much of the galaxy did: that the Republic never would have allowed a neo-Imperial organization to form.  That the sort of evil the Empire embodied had been well and truly defeated and was gone.  He was going to shatter her world—make her understand.  He took the chance that she was real, even in this place that he knew was buried deep in his mind.  Took the chance that what he was going to show her would matter—that the real Euli somewhere out there in the galaxy would wake up and know what to do.  There was a thread that bound them together, somehow.  He had felt it, and perhaps, she was real and she was here and she would know.

Closing his eyes, he found the image in his mind of the black shuttle, the wedge of the Star Destroyer, and the colossal hangar he had walked through.  He pulled up the memories in his mind much the same way he had this place on Yavin, and he hoped what he was doing somehow made sense.  That if she had found him there, she could follow him as his thoughts moved.

In that massive hangar of the _Finalizer,_ he caught her as she fell back against him.  There was a small sigh of relief even as he felt the tension in her muscles and the sudden fear sending shivers through her body.  There were dozens of TIE fighters in their bays on the walls and rows upon rows of white armored troopers marching—the Empire and all of its awful trappings on full display.  It had barely been a generation, but here it was again: secreted away, quietly growing, until they were ready.  The death of Luke Skywalker, the last of the Jedi, it would be all they needed to seize the galaxy.  He had seen it with his eyes so many times since Rapier Squadron and the assault on the _Yissira Zyde_ , but each time it still affected him on a level that made him feel sick and overwhelmed.

“I never thought…”  she said quietly, her voice gasping.  “How could they let this happen?”

Poe held onto her for as long as he could.  His hands wrapped around her stomach as he buried his bloody face in her hair.  She felt real enough—all the curves he remembered, the soft spring of the kinks in her hair as he pressed against her.  He inhaled deeply, expecting to get the familiar scent of soap and maybe a whiff of strong caf, but all he could smell was dust and the musty smell of old clothes left in storage.  Briefly he wondered where she was, what she was doing, but everything was starting to fall away.

“Hang on, Poe,”  she called to him, her voice drifting further away.

He could dare to hope.


	4. The Interrogation of Poe Dameron, Part 2

**Hosnian Prime // _Resurgent_ -class Battlecruiser _Finalizer_**

**Shortly Before the Destruction of the Hosnian System**

 

“You’re leaving?  You just got here!”  Altus stood in the doorway of what used to be his parents’ bedroom, watching as Euli tore through the closets and drawers like she was looting the place.  His mother had left very specific instructions for him should her sister ever reappear, and very specific instructions for _her._   Euli never took orders well, not even from her sister.

“I told you, Poe’s in trouble.  I can’t just sit around.”  _And wait for him to die._ The pain still trickled through her limbs, the agony of what he had gone through—was still going through.  She had tucked him away, boxed up that part of her consciousness to protect herself so that she could plan her next move.  But she was incredibly naïve to think she could do anything correctly with what little training she had in the Force.  She improvised and did it the same way she had learned to fly a fighter—on instinct and mostly faking it.  She had tried to reach back out to him, to find him just to know he was still there, but apparently it didn’t quite work the way she thought.

“This isn’t part of the plan.”  For the kid who never wanted to be a spy like his parents, who preferred the structure and straightforwardness of the Navy, he was certainly keen to continue this clandestine affair.

“ _None of this_ was part of the plan, Altus,”  she told him sharply.  She was standing amidst overturned boxes and piles of clothing, sheets ripped off the bed, like she had been looking for something in particular but couldn’t find it.  “You said she kept this place for me.  Where’s all my stuff?”

Altus moved slightly as she left the room so she wouldn’t shove him out of the way.  He watched her as she pulled cushions off the chairs, dug through end tables, and then went through the kitchen.  “We’re not there yet.  We need to establish your new identity, move the credits into the new accounts, and then we can quietly—“

Euli looked at him darkly from across the room.  “Tell me, boy, you being charged with sedition, was that part of the plan?  The plan certainly wasn’t for me to be in carbonite for a quarter century and forget that there _was_ a plan!  I think we both went a little rogue with this one.  I mean, you gave a stranger our entire cache of information!”

“And you dumped the whole thing onto the HoloNet!”

“To save your ass!”  He was her nephew, and she loved him, would do anything for him, but at the moment he was opposite her goal.  He was safe and healthy, but Poe wasn’t.  While having a fresh ID and credits would be helpful, she could do without those things.  At the moment, time was much more valuable.

Altus frowned, but didn’t retaliate.  He remained quiet in his annoyance as she started rummaging through the desk in the common room.  Pulling drawers all the way out and emptying them onto the floor, digging around on the inside of the desk to see if there were any secret compartments she had missed.  She picked up a few knickknacks and stowed them away in her bag, but still didn’t seem to find whatever it was she was searching for.  “I gave it to Dameron because it was obvious that he cared about you.  It was a little weird considering we met once as kids at the ten-year commemoration of the Battle of Yavin, though I don’t think he remembered.  To have that image in your head: your dead aunt screwing a kid who’s about the same age as you.”

Euli sighed and kicked at one of the drawers she had dropped on the ground.  Perhaps at another time it would have been funny, like the moment it had hit her that Poe was Shara’s son.  But she was anxious and irritated and in a damn hurry.  “You look just like her, but you inherited your father’s rotten attitude.”

He just snorted and shook his head, then sighed in almost resignation.  “I guess my point is, I trusted him because I knew he’d do anything to help you.  So if we’re just tossing away my mother’s dying wish…“

Euli smirked because both of them knew how irreverent it was and how Amira would have likely been just laughing along with them.

“I don’t care about Dameron or the Resistance.  I just want you to get the second chance you deserve, even if you’re choosing the literal poster boy of desertion.”

The smirk turned to a full-on grin as she started to feel a bit better now that Altus appeared to be on board.  Not to mention thinking of that particular advertisement always brought a little flutter to her insides, even now.  “So tell me where she’s keeping my stuff.  I’ll go get it.  You do what you need to do and we’ll meet back at my ship tonight and head to Jakku.”  She glanced at the chronometer; it only gave them a few hours to finish what they needed to do here on the Capital.  She hoped that Poe could afford those hours.

“I’m not going with you, Euli,”  he said, surprised that she thought he was going to tag along on her no-plan rescue mission.  “All those charges were dropped.  I’m going back to the _Arcadian_ in the morning.”

She only wore the shock momentarily.  Of course he wouldn’t go with her.  He was going back to his regular life.  He had a career he loved, friends who would miss him; he had even told her that he had finally started dating again—a girl who worked in the Senate complex.  “Of course.”  She nodded stiffly and adjusted the bag on her shoulder.

“I’ll pack up some of the stuff here and take it down to your ship.  I’ll send the address for the storage unit to your comm.  Just call me if you need help loading crates or whatever.”

There was a hollow little pit in her stomach as she looked at him.  After all this time, they got to see each other for a handful of hours before she left again.  He was a grown man, so much different than the little boy he had been, but she was still the same as she always was.  Euli walked over and wrapped her arms around him.  He was so much taller than her, the way Amira had been.  She squeezed him tightly around his waist and sniffed lightly, trying to stave off the tears.  “I’m proud of you, kid.”

“Don’t get all weepy on me already.”  He chuckled and squeezed her back.

 

~*~

 

The pain was intense.  For the moment, it seemed to be over.  Poe had mercifully slipped off into unconsciousness at some point.  He still imagined he could see Euli waiting there, just at the edge of his awareness, even though it was a ridiculous notion.  He had tried to call out to her again, to tell her he was fine, that she needed to _take care of things_ , but his tongue was thick and heavy and nothing seemed to work quite the way he wanted.  Despite all of that, he was pleased with himself.  They’d gotten nothing out of him other than a bit of one-sided banter, but he had the feeling that was just the beginning.   His hosts were gearing up for something far more intense.

He would resist.

There was a snap and hiss as the door slid open following by boots clicking against the floor.  Poe’s head rolled forward from his place strapped to the upright interrogation apparatus and his eyes slowly opened to see what new implement they’d brought to prod him with.  The person was quite the sight, the same as he had been on the sands of Jakku.  He was dressed all in black, the slightly tattered cape draped over his shoulders and around the black and silver helmet that distorted his voice.  Poe briefly wondered what sort of horrible disfigurement he must have to hide his face that way.  From the stories he’d heard, both Palpatine and Vader had been hideous old men.  Their flesh twisted and tainted by the dark side of the Force.

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.”  The voice was mechanical and dark, meant to be intimidating.  The whole damn place was intimidating, guy didn’t need a mask on top of that, but Poe wasn’t about to let him know that.  “Comfortable?”

“Not really.”

“I’m impressed.”  The man started, taking slow, deliberate steps towards him.  “No one has been able to get out of you what you did with the map.”

_Fuck you, buddy.  I could do this all day._   With defiance in his eyes, Poe didn’t look away from that intimidating mask.  “Might want to rethink your technique.”

A hand covered in black leather reached out towards him.  Poe’s mind raced with every foul swear and derogatory epithet he could think of.  For the first time, he felt a small ball of fear forming in his chest.  Though the man had yet to touch him, there was a pressure in his head as if his hands were pressed right up against his skull, trying to dig in.  The oxygen seemed to be sucked out of the air around him and every noise became amplified.

“They told me you were speaking to someone.  Who was it?”

Poe clenched his teeth, fighting back the groan of agony building in his throat.  “Your… mother.”

Apparently, he took offense to jokes about his mother because Poe’s head slammed back against the metal frame bracing him upright.  The invisible fingers pressed harder onto his skull until it felt like they had cracked bone and were digging into the fleshy parts underneath.

 

~*~

 

It was a larger storage locker than Euli had expected.  From the looks of things, Amira had also used it as some clandestine office.  There were crates full of datapads and datachips dating back decades.  The place would be worth a fortune to any in the intelligence community, or the Senate, or any number of their enemies.  And it was sitting unknown and untouched, right here in the Capital.  She wished she had more time.  Always that was the wish, just one more day.  It took some digging, but she found a few crates that had her name on them.  She had lived sparsely, even back then.  There were a few old uniforms and other clothing items.  And finally, she found it.

Wrapped in a faded blue canvas was the carved, wooden box.  Her fingers traced the grapevine trim and over the coat of arms that belonged to her mother’s side of the family.  She had cut a rebel starbird into the side of it on Yavin so many years ago.  It was a keepsake box given to many children on Alderaan, usually containing memories and dreams.  Euli had taken it with her to Coruscant, to the Rebellion, to Ossus, and given it to Amira for safekeeping.  It was a treasure from her home, the life she had lost, and it was where she had put all of her memories when she had to hide.

Inside was practically nothing.  A couple of data chips that Euli couldn’t even remember the contents of.  A dried twig that had once been a sprig of lavender, but its petals had long since turned to dust.  There was a clear, flimsy synthplate etched with flowing, stylized lettering—an invitation to the grand Winter Solstice Ball at Palace Organa.  She had been a child, too young to go, but her parents had let her keep the invitation.  And then there was that stupid medal they’d given her when Tal had died.  She sighed and shoved the box and a few other things into her satchel, but left nearly everything else undisturbed.  After locking up, she sent a message back to Altus to wait for her at the _Aldera’s Song._

Euli had barely taken half a dozen steps towards the exit when it felt as if someone had just hit her in the head with a giant hammer.  She didn’t even stagger, just fell straight onto the ground, her body convulsing.

The place where she woke up was dark and gloomy, like a day with clouds that never rain, just block out the sun.  She wasn’t sure how she got to this place, it didn’t seem real.  It was more like the place she had found Poe earlier in the day.  Was it the same day?  Euli couldn’t tell anything, except that her head was pounding something awful.

_Shit shit shit fuck Force fucking bantha shit._   The stream of barely intelligible curses filled her ears—no, her mind—until there was just screaming.  Relentless, unmitigated screaming.

Her legs, unsure and heavy beneath her, tried to run as fast as she could push herself towards the sound of his voice.  It was everywhere, and nowhere, coming at her from all sides, but mostly just in her head.  “Come on, Poe.  Let me find you.”  She wanted her voice to be a quiet plea, but it was loud and echoed all around the grey space.

_Help me, sweet…  No!  No!_

She stopped abruptly, knowing that running in this vague plane of existence was practically useless.  She was sucking in heavy breaths, begging Poe or the Force or whatever was happening to please show her the way.

“ _Euli…_ ”  He said her name in a gasp, as if he was surprised to see her, but then at the same time didn’t _want_ to see her.

She whipped around at the sound of her name and he was there on his knees behind her.  His face was battered and bloody and his arms hung limply at his side.  He could barely keep his head up.

“Poe…”  she uttered breathlessly, and fell down in front of him.  She reached out and brushed her fingers gingerly across his cheek, careful not to scrape any of the cuts or bruises.  “I’m coming, okay?  I’m on my way to the spaceport right now.”  At least she hoped she was—she had called Altus and told him she was coming.  She was walking out towards the street to catch a transport, and then… she wasn’t sure.

“Help.  Me.”  The words strangled out of him.  He was expending every effort to fend off his abuser as well as trying to communicate.  “I can’t… He’s going to get in.”

Euli’s face had gone ashen looking at him.  He was in so much pain, fighting so fiercely, and she had no idea what he thought she could do to help him.  She was several sectors away, if he was even still in the Jakku system.  A few hours in hyperspace, but did he have that long?  “I don’t know what… Please, Poe.”

_“Where is it?”_

Euli’s eyes widened as she heard a new voice in this strange space.  It was harsh and dark and reaching right into the very heart of both of them.  It spoke of the promise of not just violence, but utter decimation unless he got what he wanted.

_“Sith,”_   Poe hissed the word like a foul swear.

Tears born of a base fear prickled in Euli’s eyes and she nodded quickly.  She had a terrible idea of what she thought Poe wanted from her.  The thing she had screwed up so badly.  He must be so desperate to think this was any sort of a good request.  “I… I don’t know, Poe.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Too late.”  He nearly grinned, his bloodied lips twitched just slightly, but his eyes squeezed shut and he grimaced instead.

Poe wanted her to protect his mind, to keep the secrets he had away from the First Order.  He wanted her to repeat what she had done to herself, the thing that had fractured her mind and locked up her memories because she wasn’t a Jedi, she had no idea what she was doing.  She placed her hands on the sides of his head, holding as gently as she could.  She tried to remember what Luke Skywalker had said to her, about finding the all of the things you wanted to hide and putting them someplace safe.  “A place you treasure.  Where you put all of the things only you value,”  she whispered quietly.

She could feel the band between them, taut, but expanding, pulsing with warm, quiet energy.  If she could have spared a moment to enjoy it, she would have swam in that feeling.  The absolute closeness and being wrapped in a sense of belonging.  There had never been anything like it, not for Euli.

Boots clicked across the floor.  Slowly pacing back and forth in patient, measured steps.  And then suddenly the figure was next to them, silently looming.  His masked face tilted down over them, curiously watching.  “It seems you’ve brought a guest.  I was not expecting that from you.”

“I don’t know… what you’re… talking about,”  Poe ground out through clenched teeth.  His eyes didn’t move from Euli’s, just keep staring at her with his head in her gentle hands.

The cloaked figure turned slightly towards her, quietly studying, judging.  “Who is she?”  He bent slightly and reached out a gloved hand to just ghost over the top of her head.  “Is she… important to you?”

Poe’s teeth ground together as his muscles started to thrash, like he was trying to break out of restraints.

“Don’t let him, Poe,”  Euli said quietly.  She could feel Poe’s anger, his fear, and the intense pain.

“I bet she knows.  I bet you tell her all your secrets.”  The leather glove creaked as he reached out and grabbed a fistful of black hair, yanking her head back.  “Perhaps she will tell me where it is.”

“Fight him, Poe.”  She knew Poe was weakening, losing the battle.  The creature in the mask was far too strong.  She was trying so hard to give him something, anything, but she didn’t know, didn’t understand, and was terrified it would never be enough.

“I’m going to kill him.  You can save him, if you tell me where the map is.  Or,”  the man sneered as he lifted Euli up by her hair.  Her hands pulled away from Poe’s head and shot up to try and push away from his grasp.  “I will find this one and kill her the same way I did all the other heretics.”

Euli looked down at Poe through tear-filled eyes.  She couldn’t save him; she was an idiot to think she could.  She watched the dark look come over his face as he stared daggers up at the monster holding onto her.

“The Resistance will not be intimidated by you.”

Somewhere in the void, a thread was cut.


	5. The Interrogation of Poe Dameron, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers for issue #13 of the Poe Dameron comic series.

**_Resurgent_ -class Battlecruiser _Finalizer_**

**Shortly Before the Destruction of the Hosnian System**

 

It didn’t matter the pain that already tore at his muscles, the cuts on his skin, the metal clasps digging into his wrists, Poe fought and thrashed against the restraints holding him.  Oh, he would get that piece of shit Kylo Ren, and Force or no Force, he’d pull that stupid mask off his face and shove it down his throat.  He needed to get away from this space—out of his head, out of this contraption, off of this ship.  It was a mistake to open himself up to her, to think that she’d be able to protect them both.  Now he had put her in danger, revealed her to this monster that had just admitted to being the one to kill all the other young Jedi.

Kylo Ren squeezed his gloved fingers into her hair.  He shook her back and forth, making her cry out and then threw her to the ground in front of Poe.  She cowered near him and pressed her fingers into her scalp.  When she finally looked up at him, tears were streaking down her face.  “I’m sorry,”  he mouthed to her, no sound seeming to make an escape.

“Tell him.”                                                              

Euli pushed herself back up onto her knees and moved closer to Poe, trying to get as far away as she could from the tall, looming figure.  “He’s going to kill you, Poe.”

Poe winced at the sound of her voice, the quiet, defeated quality to it.  “It’s okay,”  he tried to sound reassuring, but was sure his words were barely audible over the knot in his throat.  “You know how this goes.”  She had been a rebel fighter long before he was, and by all accounts in a much bigger, bloodier war.  And it tore at everything he was to find out that this was the end of the road, but they both knew it could happen.

But she was shaking her head at him, as if he didn’t quite understand.  “It will be the last thing he does, and you will beg for it at the end.”

His brows pressed together painfully, wondering at what she was saying.  What ideas had Kylo Ren put into her head?  What threats had been made?  There was a heavy sense of dread once again pressing into his skull.

“He’s going to take you apart, bit by bit.  All the moments of your life flayed open and dissected.  Every triumph, every embarrassment, every intimate detail of your life picked through and exposed.  Any secret you ever kept, any fears you ever thought you overcame will be laid bare and used.”  Her hands reached for him, carefully smoothing his hair out of the bloodied cuts on his face.  Not that it really mattered in this non-physical place.

“What is this?”  he asked, so unsure of what she was saying, or why she was saying these things.

There was a sad look on her face before she leaned forward slightly, just pressing her lips against his.  He wasn’t sure how to respond with Kylo Ren still looming only steps behind her.  Though the threats came from her mouth, they were obviously his.

“He’ll find me in there.  He’ll use what we have against you.”  She sat back slightly, her eyes gazing across the bruises forming on his face, her fingers tracking down along his neck.  “He’ll find me, Poe.  My connection to the Force is raw and defiant.  He says it’s like a beacon, that I could never hide.”

Poe’s eyes narrowed on the man behind her.  “You leave her out of it!  She doesn’t know anything about the Resistance!”  His eyes squeezed shut and his mouth opened as another strangled scream escaped.  It was like layers of his mind were being hacked away, doors being crashed through, leaving only splinters.

Kylo Ren took more slow, deliberate steps, this time walking in a circle around them.  Still silently watching, quietly judging, working his little manipulations.  “I think she does.  Have you been to their base?”

“Don’t—“  It felt like his teeth would snap out of his jaw with how hard he was clenching them.  “Don’t tell.”

Her fingers curled into his jacket, flexing in and out slowly.   “Stop hurting him,”  she begged.

Kylo Ren clenched and twisted the leather-gloved hand at his side.  Poe arched backwards awkwardly against the restraints as a whimper of pain escaped his throat.  “Tell me and it stops.”

“Don’t you dare.”  He groaned loudly again as his body jolted in agony.

“D’Qar.  Outer Rim.”  And then she listed off the _coordinates_ as if the planet name wasn’t enough.

His body slumped, his muscles still twitching.  “Leave, Euli.”  Perhaps the words sounded sharp as they croaked out of him; he hadn’t meant it to be that way.  She needed to get out of here, to not be part of this horrendous experience.  He was _using_ her.  This had to stop.  “Sweetheart, please, you gotta let me go.”

“Touching.”  Kylo Ren took a few more pacing steps before once again standing uncomfortably close to them and bending slightly, watching them.  “Where is the map?”

“She doesn’t know, and you’re gonna have to kill me.”

“Oh, I will, pilot.  But first, I need the map.”

Those boney tendrils again began to dig down into his brain, obliterating any sort of meager defenses and prying into every orifice of his being.  His throat was raw from screaming and a piece of him thought that if he could just hit his head hard enough against the back of the table, he could knock himself unconscious.  He could hear Euli begging him to tell him where the map was.  _What the fuck.  How could you think I would tell him, ever?_   His vision was only blackness, his limbs felt like they were cracking and on fire at the same time, and his mind… his mind was exactly what he was told would happen.  Flayed open and on display for all to see.  Every failing he ever had, everything he had ever took pride in, his parents, his friends, the people he had dated, the woman that he decided he loved—it was all there bleeding into the blackness.

There was a boy, barely a toddler, and so happy to see his parents home again, so happy to wake up every morning and see they were still there, that they weren’t leaving to go back to the fight.  And then he was eight, and his mother was dead and he felt so alone, so isolated from the galaxy.  His antics at the Academy, his failings, his successes—his attitude that was never quite appreciated, but his skill that was.

Rapier Squadron.  Muran.  Black Squadron.  L’ulo.  He had failed them both.  Losing L’ulo had almost been like losing his mother all over again.  Except instead of a helpless child, he was the Commander of the squadron and his man had died in the sky while he was on the ground.  How many more would die from the secrets being spilled here?  He wouldn’t be able to save them either.

“Please, stop!”  Euli was sobbing, her small, boney fingers jerking on his jacket to try and pull him back.  “I’ll tell you!  I’ll tell you everything, just stop!”

“No!”  he shouted through the pain and his own tears.  “You can’t!”

“Please,”  she begged.  “Poe, I can’t watch this anymore.”

_“Then go away.”_

“Tell me, and it stops.  Once I have what I want, there will be no more need for this.”

“Euli, don’t do this!  The Resistance—the galaxy—“

“He has an astromech.  A BB-unit, orange and white.  He gave it to the droid and told it he would come back.  It’s still on Jakku.”

Throughout the divulgence of the information he had been desperate to hide, he was screaming at her to stop.  Screaming at her to keep the secret, to protect the Resistance.  He knew that she would have done anything to protect the Rebellion, to safeguard the future, but she was giving the enemy the key to their victory and defeat for _him._   He sucked in heavy breaths as the tendrils scraped away from him, pulling out and leaving nothing but their broken, hollow trenches in his mind.  His body slumped forward, his muscles having gone to jelly.  “How could you…”  He was stunned, and hurt, and so very angry.

“How could you?”  he whispered again, feeling the tears dripping down his face, mingling with the blood and stinging his skin.  She was just sitting there sad and vacant, not even apologetic.  She had ruined them for nothing.  Kylo Ren would kill him anyway.  Mercifully, he didn’t have to look at her anymore.  His body and mind finally gave out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, friends, it's going to hurt for awhile.


	6. When His Light Went Out

**Hosnian Prime // Jakku**

**Shortly Before the Destruction of the Hosnian System**

 

Euli woke up _screaming_.  It was unintelligible.  Cries not of pain, but of a woman in the throes of grief.  It took four sets of arms to restrain her.  Twice, a needle was pressed into her skin, sending her back into a spiral of numbness and vague awareness.  The third time she awoke, her throat was too raw to make noise and her limbs were far too heavy to struggle against the restraints.  She felt exposed; her clothes were gone, replaced by a thin, uncomfortable gown.  There were machines around her beeping and voices talking in the distance.

She hadn’t been awake for long when a head appeared in the doorway and watched her for a moment, probably seeing if she was going to try and escape again.  It was a leathery, grey-colored Weequay with a little white hat and matching white medical robes.  Female, Euli guessed, judging by her curves, and not very intimidating.

“Where are my clothes?”  her voice rasped.  She wondered if her throat was sore just from the screaming and the crying, or if there had also been a tube in her throat.  If that had been the case, what had happened to her body while she was—no, she decided, none of that mattered.  She had something much more important to worry about.  “Untie me.  I need to leave.”

The Weequay took two small steps to come fully into the room, her hands clutched behind her back.  “You broke an orderly’s nose.  I think the restraints will stay on until we’re sure you can control your behavior.”  Her voice was soft and light and sounded more Outer Rim than Core.  “My name is Dr. Zalen Pyra, and now you have me at a disadvantage.”

Euli frowned, her neck starting to strain at the awkward angle.  “I’m the one tied up.  I think I’m at a disadvantage to everyone.  What kind of doctor are you?”

“Psychologist.”

Euli’s head fell back to the pillow.  “Kriff this.”  Her fingers clenched together and her fist bounced angrily on the bed.  She couldn’t stay here.  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Do you know what happened to you?  Where you are now?”

Tears rolled down the sides of her face.  She knew what happened.  Every horrible detail was seared into her memory.  “A hospital, but I’m fine.  I need to leave.”

“And a name?”

Now, that was a question.

“You have no right to keep me here!”  Euli shouted, but her voice cracked halfway through and trailed off in a hoarse gasp.  Her bruised wrists sent stabs of pain through her arms as she pulled against the restraints, desperately trying to get free.  “I demand to be released!”

The Weequay had turned towards the door and started calling for some more assistance when there was a familiar voice shouting from behind her.  “No, no, you can’t give her any more of those drugs.  No, she’s my sister and I’m taking responsibility for her.”  Altus appeared suddenly in the door frame, pushing around the slight doctor.  “Hey, the guy at the storage place said he found you passed out and they brought you here.  I got here as soon as I could.  I’m so sorry, I never should have left you alone.”

Euli squeezed his hand as he slipped it into hers.  Seeing him, feeling him, caused a fresh new wave of tears in her eyes.  His fingers moved to the restraints, unbuckling them as quickly as he could.

“I’d advise against that, she’s been very combative, Mister….”

“It’s Captain, actually.”  His eyes snapped back to her along with his voice.  “And I’ll take full responsibility.”

“We’re going to need proof of her identity—and yours, Captain.”

Altus paused only to fish a credit stick out of his pocket and toss it at her.  The stick bounced awkwardly off her hand and clattered to the floor as the doctor was unprepared to have something thrown at her.  “Take what you need from that.  Hell, take it all, but we’re leaving.”

“That’s not how this works, Captain.”

That fact did not seem to matter to him; he just went back to freeing his aunt from her bonds.  Once she was free, she wrapped her arms around him, choked sobs escaping.

“He’s dead, Altus.  Poe’s dead.  I couldn’t… oh, stars!  He’s dead!”  she wailed into his chest.

“Oh.”  Altus stood still, struck dumb for a moment.  He brushed his hand across her head, but tried to push her away gently.  He frowned at her and the ugly, wracking sobs shaking her body.  He must be so disappointed to discover she was so unlike the firm and steadfast woman he had known as a boy.  She could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe her, didn’t think she could know with any certainty what Poe’s fate had been, but it wasn’t going to stop him from doing his best to help her.  “We need to get you out of here.”

“If you don’t mind, Captain.”  There was a new voice at the door; clipped, local.  “We have some questions for your… sister?  Is that right?”

Euli relinquished her grasp slightly on her nephew, trying to peer around him towards the door.  There were two men, one human and the other a Selonian, both dressed in dark grey uniforms, both with little caps tucked under their arms.  When she looked back up at Altus, he was scowling.  “Different mothers, what’s it to you?”

Euli glanced down at her hand wrapped around his wrist, her skin several shades darker than his pale complexion, not to mention his stark blonde hair compared to her tufted, jet black locks.  Sister was probably a hard sell, maybe cousin.  Too late to change their lies now.  “Who are they?”  Even as she asked the question, she could already read their body language, their clothing.  There was a pang in her chest as she thought of her father and his crisp, blue uniform and the baton hanging from his belt.  Again it seemed she had found herself on the opposite side of the law.

“I am Investigator Kivarra and this is Officer Wettin,”  the human, Kivarra, stated as he took a step into the room.  “We’d like to ask you some questions, Miss…?”

Altus’ scowl deepened, his lips biting together.  When Euli started to open her mouth, to give them the only name she had ever had, he shifted in front of her, hiding her from the officers.  “She doesn’t have to answer your questions.”

“Her name is privileged information?”  the Salonian, Wettin, asked this time.

“My name is Euli Avedis,”  she said from behind Altus.  When he turned and gave her another one of those withering scowls, she gave him one back of her own.  “I won’t lie about who I am.”

Kivarra cocked an eyebrow at the interesting choice of phrase.  “And the person you were saying was dead just before we came in?”

Her chest was tight again, and the lump in her throat expanded once more.  Tears slipped down her cheeks.  She could barely bring herself to say his name.  “Poe… Poe’s dead.  Poe Dameron, he’s a pilot.  He was executed by the First Order.”

There was a rather incredulous glance shared between the two officers.  Kivarra told Wettin to go run down the name before he turned back to the “brother and sister.”  “Setting up for that insanity defense pretty early.  Of course, getting yourself locked in a psych ward was probably enough, didn’t have to drag Poster Boy into it, too.”

“As you can see, my sister isn’t well.  Tell me what this is about.”

“Ms. Avedis was found unresponsive with no identification and no indication what had happened to her.  The hospital called HopSec.”  He pulled a small datapad off his belt and queued up a hologram for them to watch.  “Turns out, she matches the description of someone seen leaving Senator Donam’s residence shortly before he was found dead.”

They were both quiet for a moment.  Euli pushed the edge of her gown up under her nose and sniffed as thoughts raced through her mind—Poe, Jakku, and now the possibility of being trapped on his planet.  “Are you charging me with something?”

“Just asking.  For now.”  Kivarra tucked the datapad back into his belt, all the while watching her, no doubt gauging her reactions.

“Then I’m leaving.”

The investigator scoffed lightly.  “I don’t think—“

“No!”  she shouted at him, her word nearly choking in her sore throat.  “You have _no right_ to keep me here.  This is the Republic, _my_ Republic!”

Altus reached out and squeezed her shoulder, trying to keep her settled on the bed before they tried to calm her down with drugs again.  There was a stern look and a shake of his head, quietly warning her that she was about to make things worse.  He turned to the officer and herded him out of the room with a threat to call an advocate if they didn’t let her rest.

“We need a plan.”  Once the door was shut, she planted her feet on the ground and found her bag in the corner.  Everything was still there—clothes, the things she’d collected—all accounted for.

“ _Now_ you want a plan?”  he snapped back at her.  “We had a plan, then you told them your name and now the plan is fucked.”

“I need to get off world.”

“Any other obvious parts of the plan you want to go over?”

“I’m going to find the man who killed Poe, and I’m going to make him suffer.”  There was a dark look on her face and the familiar need of vengeance settling in her heart.  The shock and grief of his death was giving way to anger.  It would scare her nephew if he truly knew how she planned to cut down any in her way.

 

~*~

 

As soon as they broke atmosphere, the craft had begun spinning, spiraling towards the sandy surface.  His new friend, the defecting stormtrooper, was shouting about how this was bad—this was very, very bad.  Poe didn’t disagree, but he was focused on getting them out of this very bad situation.

“Just hang onto the seat!”

“WHAT!”

Poe couldn’t help the little smirk.  “Just hang on!  It’s gonna be okay!”  He gave it a three count, and when the pitch was right, Poe slammed his hand onto the eject button for Finn’s seat.  He gave a little whoop when the seat went up into the sky, hopefully sending Finn safely on his way and not crashing to the ground like Poe currently was.  As he hit the button to save Finn, he noticed the seat he was in was jammed, damaged in the firefight.  If he was going to save himself, he’d have to figure out how to land the out of control fighter.  For a moment, Poe considered just accepting this fate.  Let the TIE slam into the surface with him inside.  At least he wouldn’t have to think anymore.

No.

He could still find BB-8 and salvage this mess.  It had only been maybe a handful of hours since… the event.  Half a day at most, maybe.  Poe winced and pulled on the controls as he made the decision to try.  That little astromech was the most resourceful droid he’d ever known.  Maybe BB-8 was hiding out, or had found someone to help, like one of Threepio’s spies.

The calibrating thrusters fired enough to stop the roll.  If he could just slow down a bit more, he could skip across the sand instead of slamming into it.  It was a rough bit of piloting and for a second, he was sure he had blacked out from the force gravity was pushing on him and the damaged craft.

He woke up baking in the crumpled cockpit of the TIE fighter.  His head was pounding from all manner of abuse it had taken over the past day.  Had it really only been a day?  Poe wasn’t entirely sure, it certainly felt longer.  There was a groan of pain as he pulled the buckles from his body.  His arm hung painfully and useless at his side.  Gingerly, he pressed against his collarbone and down his arm.  It didn’t feel like anything was broken, but definitely dislocated.  He wasn’t sure he had the strength to get it back into place at the moment.  There was a gash on his side, probably a couple of cracked ribs in there, too, plus all the other lovely injuries he’d gotten courtesy of the First Order.  Actually, they got credit for all of his injuries.  He crawled out of the cockpit and rolled onto the sand, causing his already-stinging cuts to burn.

_Keep moving_.  He kept telling himself as his feet dragged through the sand.  His skin blistered in the sun and he wondered why he didn’t think to grab his jacket on the way out of the crashed fighter.  Too damn hot, but he could have used it to hold over his head.  As the sun went down, he really wished he had that jacket.  Poe collapsed next to a large rock jutting out of the sand, and tried to huddle away from the biting cold wind that now blew across the desert.  He forgot how hot the sun had been, and missed it.

He was exhausted, beaten to all hell, likely concussed, dehydrated, bleeding internally…

_Good, stay positive, Dameron._

He tried to keep Euli out of his thoughts, but lying there in the sand and trying not to think about the tremendous pain he was in took his mind to all sorts of places.  He tried not to think of the ache in his brain, as if his bits of his skull had been caved in and now there were little bone shards swimming around with the grey matter.  But there she was, kneeling in front of him, spilling all of his secrets.

He was heartbroken, but more than that, he felt utterly alone.

 Poe must have managed to fall asleep at some point, or at least lost consciousness again.  He woke up with the sun once more out and beating mercilessly down on him.  With a sigh, he slumped against the rock, struggling to find the strength to get up.

“I’m sorry, BB-8,”  he whispered hoarsely, his throat dry and sore.  “I told you I’d come back.  Guess our luck finally ran out.”

There was a vibration in the sand, dust in the air, a light heading towards him.

_A speeder.  Fuck.  Yes._


	7. Echoes of What Was Lost

**Yavin IV**

**Approximately a Year After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

It was a familiar place, the field of the dead.  She’d like to think she’d grown numb to it.  The way the acrid smells washed over her; the way her boots squelched into the blood-soaked ground.  She would have liked to say, that after all this time, it held little control over her emotions.

She would be lying.

Sometimes the dream was cruel enough to put faces on the bodies.  Sometimes she saw her father or her sister or any number of bygone colleagues.  Sometimes she saw the faces of those she had grown close to during her time on D’Qar:  Jess, Snap, Bastian… the Princess.  This was such a time when her subconscious had decided to be vicious with her heart.  Her eyes caught the easily recognizable black and red helmet, except it had been cracked and nearly split in two.  The paste of dirt and blood sucked on her boots as she tried to run, making her legs heavy and her steps slow.

She fell to the ground next to him.  The mud splashed onto her clothing and soaked into her trouser legs, staining them red.  Tears in her eyes, she pushed the body next to him away and nearly ripped the helmet from his head.  Shaking hands shook him fiercely and rubbed at his chest, begging him to wake up.  Begging for forgiveness.

Over and over she apologized to his corpse.

Until the pain in her chest was too much.

Euli’s body jolted in the bed as she finally woke up.  She knew she was safe—knew that what she had seen wasn’t real.  She wished she could remember that in the moment, but she supposed the human mind was flawed that way.  Several deep breaths later, she sat up and wiped the sheen of sweat from her forehead, her chest still aching.

She was in Poe’s room, his old room, in his father’s house.  The pillow still held the faint scent of him and Euli wasn’t sure if it made her feel comforted or if someone was trying to claw her heart out with their fingernails.  Despite the horrific way her sleep had ended, she actually felt rested.  It was honestly the most rested she had felt—

Euli untangled herself from the sheet and shot to her feet, suddenly panicking.  She looked at the small, boxy chronometer on the bedside table with its bobbing X-Wing ticking away the seconds.

_Seven hours?!  No, no, how in the stars did I sleep that long?!_

No wonder her chest felt like it was going to explode.

She found her trousers and a clean shirt, another item of Poe’s, and quickly dressed before stumbling out of the room.  She glanced in the other bedrooms quickly, and the refresher, and the sitting room and kitchen.  The panic was rising as she hunted through the empty house.  Her mind took several horrifying turns to all of the terrible things that could have happened while she slept.  Would Kes have taken her somewhere?  Had someone found them?  _Had Poe come home?_

There was a rush of relief when Euli heard Nadja’s gurgling squeals as she opened the door to the back garden.  Kes had set out a blanket under the tree for her to lie on.  The old man was giggling just as much as the baby as she rolled over and over towards the grass, and then he would pick her up and set her back on the other side for her to do it all over again.

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long,”  she told him as she walked over, her arms crossed uncomfortably across her chest.

“You looked like you needed it.”  He smiled up at her as he placed a hand on his granddaughter’s belly to keep her from rolling away again as they talked.  “Can’t imagine you’ve had more than a couple hours sleep at a time, being on your own with a baby.”

The baby certainly hadn’t helped her long-standing conflict with sleep.  Though she did appreciate the concern, and she did feel quite a bit better, all things considered.  “I need to feed her.”

“I gave her some of the milk you had stored in the freighter couple hours ago.  I hope that was okay?”

Euli was pretty sure he wasn’t trying to pile on the guilt, but she couldn’t help feeling that way.  She was thankful for his help, for his thoughtful consideration, but they would have to sit down and have a talk about how this new arrangement would work.  “No, _I_ need to feed her,”  she said whilst gesturing vaguely at her chest area.  Her breasts were swollen and achy, and thankfully hidden underneath the oversized shirt.

“Oh, right,”  he grinned and picked up Nadja, carrying her over to her mother.  As he placed the child in Euli’s arms, he pressed a kiss into her cheek.  “I’ll make you some breakfast.  Poe won’t be happy if he shows up and you’re that skinny, especially after having a baby.”

Worry etched Euli’s features as Kes passed her and headed back into the house.  “Did you talk to him?  Is he coming?”

“No, I wasn’t sure what sort of…”  His hand waved in the air as he paused, trying to think of how to phrase it.  “Protocols the pair of you had.”

Kes thought they were on the run, or at least in hiding.  It was partly true, and perhaps best if he didn’t know all of it, at least not yet.  It would be too hard to explain, too painful to give a whole retelling to Poe’s father.  Euli nodded as she followed him indoors and let him busy himself in the kitchen as she settled down on the couch with the babe.

“The house looks better since the last time I was here,”  Euli commented as she leaned back against the cushions and looked about the room as her child suckled.  “Is this couch new?”  Euli wasn’t sure she had seen it before, or perhaps it had been covered up.

“Was in the guest room,”  Kes called over the clattering pans.  “Tinor, you remember Salet’s oldest?  He comes by a couple times a week to help out.  Sometimes crashes here.  You know, teenage boys.”

Euli did know, once.  She had two older brothers who were obnoxious and teased her mercilessly.  There was a time when she had wished they had gone off and found somewhere else to live.  Tinor was lucky to have Kes; they both were.  What she had been doing was stupid, and dangerous, but she had been living one moment at a time.  One point taken, the next in her sight.

Kes shuffled around the room, finding a tray for the breakfast since her lap was occupied.  When she looked at what he had prepared, her heart was again wrapped in that pained comfort.  Being on this planet had been bad enough, but coming to this house?  Sleeping in his bed, taking meals with his father—it was almost worse than torture.

“You okay, kid?”  he asked her as he moved the tray closer to her so she could reach.

Euli shook her head and then nodded, as if unable to make up her mind.  “Poe cooks eggs and beans just about every morning, if he has time.  If not, he just drinks caf.  No sugar, just a lot of milk.”  The words just tumbled out as she remembered those precious few mornings they had spent together in between the long missions searching for Lor San Tekka.  How closely she had paid attention to every tiny detail, savoring it.

And suddenly she was angry, and Nadja was crying, and Kes was just looking at her with all that kindness and concern.  This was all a mistake, a huge kriffing mistake.

The cushions sank slightly with Kes’ weight as he sat beside her, watching as the hand not clutching her child to her pumped in and out of a fist.  “I know how hard this is.”

Teeth clenched, she shook her head.  He had no idea.

His hand rested on hers, squeezing softly to still the reflexive clenching.  “It’s going to be okay.”

How many times had she said that?  How many times had Poe said it back to her?  If only saying it could have made it true.  The wave of anger passed as quickly as it had come.  The babe resettled and nuzzled in to resume her feeding.  Euli mumbled half of an apology and nodded at Kes, her hand reaching out to scoop up a spoonful of breakfast before it got cold.

Kes let out a long sigh and squeezed her shoulder before standing up.  “I have to spray all this crap onto the fields before those pests ruin the whole crop.  You take your time, get some rest.”  He stood and took a few steps towards the door, then paused.  Euli could hear the slight shuffling as he paced while trying to make up his mind about something; another trait he shared with Poe.

“We’ll still be here when you get back, Pop,”  Euli said after quickly swallowing back the food in her mouth.  “Can’t afford the fuel and not like I have anywhere to go.”  She barely heard the sigh of relief before the door slid closed after him.

Euli ate.  Nadja ate.  They finished near the same time, but the babe had dozed off.  Full belly and likely exhausted from the new experience of playtime with an eager grandfather.  Euli wiped away the milk that had dribbled down her chin with her shirt—Poe’s shirt—and then carried her to where a little makeshift sleeping area had been constructed.  On the ship, her daughter slept curled next to her, blanket shoved into the crack between the cot and the wall, with Euli on the other side.  Kes had set up a blanket on the floor in a corner he had cleared out and erected a barricade of baskets and boxes to keep her from rolling away.  He had told her there wasn’t anything left from when Poe was a baby; he had been a toddler by the time they started living together here on Yavin.

She laid the babe carefully out in her little fortress, her fingers brushing the uneven curls back.  When she slept, she looked like him, peaceful with only the occasional soft snore.  Except without the beard.  Euli smiled slightly at the thought, and then shook it away.

While she had been given the advice she was sure every new mother got from well-meaning strangers, to sleep while the baby slept, Euli couldn’t waste those free moments.  She had slept more the night before than she had in well over a year and now had too much energy to burn.  She picked up around the house, though it seemed to be in a much better state than the last time she’d visited.  A load of blankets, rags, and clothes were dumped into the wash and she wiped down the tables and the counters before settling into the chair in front of Kes’ computer console.

Her teeth tore at a koyo she’d found as she pressed the keys and flipped through what little news reports there were.  The First Order still controlled the majority of the HoloNet and almost all news agencies had been shuttered or gone underground.  Mostly, she wanted to know the state of the galaxy.  How far the First Order and their mercenaries and converts had spread.  News of any opposition victory relieved some of the anxiety in her chest, but there never seemed to be enough detail.  Occasionally, there would be the class of ship or the hushed mention of General Organa.  It reminded her so much of coded transmissions and the subtle call to arms in the early days of the Rebellion.  Euli had been a girl, spoiled and wrapped in her own privileged life, but she remembered her father sitting in his den.  He would be listening to an old transceiver, not the large, fancy projector they had in the sitting room.  His face would be drawn and sullen as he listened to the static-filled transmissions.  At the end however, he always looked a bit more hopeful, as if someone had told him that one day everything would be better and he had believed it.

Euli wished these rogue operators would tell her it was going to get better.

She thought about trying to access the bounty listings as that would give her a general idea of who was still alive in the Resistance, but Kes’ console only had a generic encryption key.  It would be a risk to do anything beyond casual, local HoloNet browsing.  Instead, she was nosey.  She poked around in places where she didn’t belong, where it wasn’t any of her business, and made it into her business.  And if Kes had been in contact with Poe, there would be a log of it.  It would tell her all sorts of things, especially if it was recent.

Hours passed; Nadja woke up and ate again.  Euli laid her on the floor on a blanket next to the computer and tickled her belly with her toes, trying to keep her entertained and still while she worked.  When Kes finally walked back into the house, Euli turned around in the chair and faced him.  The babe was in her lap now, gnawing on a damp cloth.  She gurgled and shook her prize at her grandfather as he walked in and took off his hat, wiping his brow with his sleeve.

“We need to find you some real toys, baby girl!”  Kes grinned and practically skipped over to the pair of them.

Euli just frowned at him.  “I can’t afford toys, and neither can you apparently.  Did you know your farm has been bleeding credits for years?  You’re lucky the Republic is gone because you owe them _tens of thousands_ of credits.”

Kes blanched and shook his head.  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.  And I have been paying them!”

“You pay the local council.  You haven’t paid the Republic since….”  Euli turned back to the screen and pushed her fingers across the keys.  “Year twenty-two.  Let me guess, that was when Poe went back to the Academy?”

“That conversation you wanted to have?  About setting some ground rules?  I think this is on it.”  He huffed and stalked off into the kitchen.  Noisily he opened and shut cabinets and then reappeared gulping down a glass of water.  “I don’t like it when Poe comes home and treats me like I’m an invalid.  I don’t need it from you, too.”

“I’m not treating you like an invalid!”  she nearly shouted back at him.  “I’m treating you like a businessman who, if he didn’t get this ranch in a very generous land grant, would have lost it years ago!”

“I’m doing just fine, been doing fine for years.  All on my own.  I don’t need you fighter jockeys coming in here—“

Euli stood and walked briskly over to Kes, Nadja practically slung over her shoulder.  “You want me here?”  she asked him sharply.  “You let me do what needs to be done to protect this family.  Part of that is now making sure we can afford to keep the lights on.”  She watched as Kes just huffed and frowned at her.  On some level, he must have known she was right, but she was an outsider coming into his little corner of the galaxy and throwing it all into chaos.  But then he _had_ insisted.  “It takes all kinds, right?”

Kes stared at her a moment, his jaw working as he turned over what she had said in his mind.  _So much like him_.  Euli bit back the lump in her throat as for a moment as she swore she saw Poe standing in front of her and not his father.  Finally, he nodded.  “I didn’t get in this to make any credits.  Just enough to take care of Shara and Poe and our community.”

Euli nodded.  She had seen from the records that while he sold off the majority of the koyo harvest, as that was a high demand commodity, near everything else was given away, donated, or eaten right here.  She offered him a small smile and reached out to trade his glass for Nadja.  The girl cooed and gurgled, her hands slapping happily at the new person holding her.

“Tinor will be by tomorrow.  I’m gonna call Salet and ask her if she still has any baby items he can bring over.”

“Kes, I don’t want anyone to know we’re here.”

“Kid, this town has less than three thousand people.  Everyone knows everyone’s business.”  Kes chuckled as he bounced the girl in his arms.  “You planning to hide every time that boy comes by?  Clean up all the evidence I’ve got an infant living in my house now?”

Euli frowned, but she knew he was right.  On Wetyin, she parked her freighter as far back as she could.  She only went into the village when she needed something.  People knew her as the poor refugee with the baby, not that the father of her child may or may not be a high-ranking member of the Resistance.  Didn’t know of the bodies she had left in her wake to escape.  Didn’t understand how often the Force had rolled in darkness around her feet, haunted her steps and how desperate she was be free of it.  Here, with Kes Dameron and all of the deep roots he had laid in this town, there was no doubt that despite the brief time she had spent here, people knew who she was.  There had likely been gossip about the girl Poe had brought home and Kes would have grinned and told those old hens how his son and his girl had made up before setting back off into the galaxy together.  They would remember her, put all the pieces together.  News of Poe’s daughter would spread.

Kes seemed to read her apprehension and reached out to grasp her shoulder.  “You’re right to worry.  Twice I’ve had bounty hunters come out here looking for me, for a way to get to Poe and the Resistance.  But that’s what having a community means.  The Yavin defense chased them off.  They never even made it to my property.  They’d have to come out here with a real show of force, and I don’t think we’re that important.”

“I hope you’re right.”  Euli sighed, but she reluctantly agreed to let Kes call Salet and ask after items for Nadja.  The child needed a real crib and clothes and safe things to chew on.  Euli had turned some of her clothes into little smocks for her to wear.  She had pulled apart an extra seat in the freighter to make the baby sling.  Thinking on the freighter…  “I suppose I should ask you then who I need to talk to about parting out the freighter.”

“You don’t want to keep it?  Just in case?”  Kes looked puzzled.  In a galaxy gone mad, things like ships gave so much freedom.  Even one that needed a significant amount of maintenance to keep going was better than having nothing.  Better than being stuck should the worst happen.

Maybe one day she’d tell him.  Confess to how it was her fault they’d gotten captured in the first place.  That every wretched thing she had done had been in an effort to keep his son, and later his granddaughter, safe.  Not today, though.  “It’s too recognizable now.  Too dangerous to keep.  It’s worth more as parts.”

The next day, the entire brood came over with Tinor: both his sisters and his mother.  Salet sent her son back with the speeder for another load of crates and the foldaway crib she had kept.  She apologized for not having more to offer, as once her youngest had graduated from infancy, she had gotten rid of most of it—no intention on having more children.  Despite her hesitation, Euli was overwhelmed.  There was a kindness in the woman’s eyes, a recognition of a mother struggling.  She pulled Euli into a hug and rubbed her back and told her that if there was anything she needed, anything at all, she just had to ask.

Salet asked her how the rest of the galaxy was faring.  Like Kes, she had assumed that Euli had been in contact with the Resistance recently.  That she had some sort of insider knowledge.  She didn’t.  Salet asked how Poe was doing.  She laughed as she asked how he found fatherhood, expressed her sympathies for how hard it must be to be apart with a baby.  Euli just shook her head and bit back the horrid emotions the questions drew up in her and said she couldn’t talk about it.  It was ‘classified’ or it was just too damn difficult, Euli didn’t care which assumption Kes or Salet came to.  She absolutely did not want to talk about Poe or the Resistance or anything else related to those two topics, so when it was brought up again, she walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a bit of confusion on what the sequence of events are. The main body of "Hollowed Out" takes place right around the time of "The Force Awakens" and a few months afterwards, but there are four chapters that skip ahead to about a year after Starkiller. (Chapters 2, 7, 12 (tentative), and 20) I did this mainly to build extra tension because the main conflict of the story happens right at the beginning, and if you do the math, Euli isn't pregnant yet. So what's going on that's _still_ keeping them apart? And as I go through the rest of the story, it answers those questions. I knew this had the potential to be confusing, but I really liked the idea and wanted to try it. To try and lessen the confusion, there are Setting and Time tags at the top of each chapter to indicate when the chapter is taking place. I hope that clears up any confusion! Thank you for reading and if you have any questions, please let me know!


	8. It's a Long, Hard Road to Get Home

**Yavin IV**

**Shortly Before the Destruction of the Hosnian System**

 

Poe Dameron didn’t think he’d ever be able to pay back the kindness the two Blarina had shown him on Jakku.  Naka Iit had picked him up in the speeder and given him food and water before taking him to Blowback Town.  Naka’s friend, Ohn Gos, offered him a ride to Yavin IV—crazily enough, he was headed that way anyhow.  Apparently, fresh produce was hard to find on Jakku so the markup was huge.  Poe promised Ohn Gos the world if he could get him home, back to _Black One_ and the Resistance.

The Blarina had helped him slam his shoulder back into place, but that didn’t fix everything else the First Order had done.  He wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing his father, but the transit time to the Outer Rim moon gave him time to mentally prepare for the look of worry and disappointment on his father’s face.  He tried to keep his thoughts focused, plan his next move after Yavin, but he blew through what Ohn Gos had in the way of first aid supplies rather quickly.  He spent the majority of the trip as an embarrassing, moaning heap on the floor of the dirty freighter.

When they landed on the familiar cracked duracreet panels, Poe couldn’t even get up.

His eyes cracked open as his father fell to his knees beside him.  A hand ghosted across his shoulder as if his father was afraid he’d break him even further if he touched him.  “Oh, Shara.  I’m not ready.”

“…Pop…”

“Save your strength, son,”  he told him and then he was on his feet, commpad in hand.  Poe could only make out a few agitated words in protest.  His father was calling for a doctor, maybe Dr. Lapalo.  Poe couldn’t remember that old man had retired yet or not.  Pop started yelling about getting his ass over here yesterday with all the bacta he could shove into his speeder.

Poe must have passed out, again.  His next awareness was being jostled on a field stretcher down the ramp of the freighter and laid out on the dining table in his house.  Whatever had been left there was pushed to the floor to make room his bloody mess.  The doctor, whoever he was, kept asking what had happened, where it hurt.

“ _Fucking everywhere, Doc.”_

“The Defense Force has a tank.  I’ll call them,”  his father said as he fumbled around for where he’d dropped the commpad.

“Don’t bother.”  The doctor pressed his hands against various places, seemingly to extract as much additional pain as possible.  “YDF had a training accident yesterday so it’s occupied.”

“Come on,”  Poe ground out.  “Already got what you wanted, don’t need to keep going.”

The doctor’s hands paused only briefly, then picked up where he’d left off before finally pushing some pain meds, letting Poe relax back onto the table.

 

~*~

 

Kes had been here before.  Here being cutting off a fallen soldier’s clothes so the medic could see the injuries, finding whatever clean towels, rags, and other medical supplies could be scavenged.  Kes didn’t think it would be something he’d have to do in his house, on his own son.  Perhaps it was something he should have anticipated.

He tried not to think that it was his boy broken and bloodied on the table where they ate dinner.  He took the towels and wiped off the dirt and sand and dried blood.  Cleaned his cuts and tried not to wince at the large splotches of purple discoloring his body.  He helped the doctor wrap the bacta strips around his shoulder.  His eyes stung with tears as he wiped the cloth across Poe’s face, no longer able to feign that professional detachment.  The blood was matted into his hair and the cut on his face was swollen and obviously infected.

“Did he say what happened?”  the doctor asked.  He was a human, older than Kes.  Probably should have retired already, but Dolyn Lapalo was as stubborn as any of the colonists on Yavin.

Kes just huffed in response.  It was obvious to him what had happened.  Poe had been worked over by someone, but had managed to get away.  The Blarina said he’d picked Poe up on Jakku, already half-dead in the desert.

As for the Blarina, Ohn Gos was still standing in the doorway, watching with morbid curiosity as the two humans worked on the third.  A calloused, orange-pink hand reached up and rubbed at his snout.  “Need to go back,”  he said in clipped, thickly accented Basic.  “A matter of payment?”

Dr. Lapalo and Kes shared a look over Poe’s body.  Of course, no one did anything out of pure kindness in this galaxy.  But to be honest, Kes would have given the little alien his whole damn ranch for saving his son.  Poe’s hand reached up and just brushed Kes’ wrist before it fell back down.  “Just a few crates of koyo,”  Poe said quietly through the haze of the painkillers.  “Don’t be stingy, Pop.”

Kes found another rag and wiped his hands before escorting Ohn Gos to one of the outbuildings.  He told the Blarina to go ahead and have the pick of the place:  fruits, vegetables, whatever he wanted.  It was the least he could do.  As they loaded the crates into the freighter, Kes tried to press Ohn Gos for more information.  “Did he tell you why he was on Jakku?”

The little alien shrugged and snorted.  “No.  But, maybe this useful to you.  In Jakku orbit: Star Destroyer.  Big.  Real.  Not salvage.”

It took a moment for the words to fully register in Kes’ mind.  His jaw hung open in shock, his features paled, and he said nothing as his son’s rescuer climbed back onto his ship and left.  The First Order had been spoken of in such idle terms; even HoloNet pundits who disagreed with disarmament didn’t put much stock into the whispers beyond the Mid-Rim.  What little Poe had told him about the Resistance was that they believed this First Order was a real threat, but nothing Poe had said suggested that they possessed such a huge military asset.  As far as Kes knew, the Resistance had a few drop ships, starfighter squadrons, but doubted they had a capital ship capable of taking on a Star Destroyer.

“ _Already got what you wanted, don’t need to keep going,_ ”  Kes repeated what Poe had said in a moment of pain and nearly fell to the ground.  His poor boy, his sweet boy, on a _Star Destroyer_ getting _tortured_.  His eyes turned skyward as fresh tears leaked down his face.  “I can’t do this, Shara.”

When he made it back into the house, Dr. Lapalo had already finished cleaning and dressing all the wounds.  Poe’s shoulder, chest, and head were all wrapped in the tacky strips of medicated bandaging.  A sack of liquid hung from an old lamp; tubing snaked down into Poe’s hand.  As Kes approached, Dr. Lapalo went through the laundry list of his injuries, ending with the worst of it.  “He’s got a pretty bad concussion.  He needs to rest, as much as possible.  I’ll call YDF in the morning and find out when that tank will be available.”

Kes took a staggering breath and wiped his hands quickly across his eyes before rubbing at his beard.  “And if he doesn’t get into a tank?  Will he be all right?”

“Yeah, on their own none of his injuries were life-threatening.  Everything together, along with the dehydration, put him in a rough spot, but he’s fine for now.  Tank will just speed up the healing.”

Kes sighed and placed a hand on the doctor’s shoulder.  “I appreciate everything you’ve done.  I don’t think anyone else needs to know Poe’s home.”

Dr. Lapalo frowned, but nodded slightly.  He too was of the generation that had seen what an unchecked Empire could do to dissenters.  Some of the marks on Poe’s body and the toxins still lingering in his system bore an eerie resemblance to interrogation implements of days gone by.  “I’ll leave you some extra painkillers, and tell your errand boy to stop by my office for more bacta patches tomorrow.”  There was another sigh before he continued,  “Don’t let him get back into that X-Wing, Kes.  Take the starter fuses out, whatever you need to do, just keep him out of it.  It’ll exacerbate his injuries and Force help whoever’s with him if he blacks out in it.”

Kes grumbled about having tried to keep that boy out of a starfighter for over thirty years.

 

~*~

 

She was smiling at him, her skin glowing, her hair neatly pinned.  Her arms were draped lazily over his shoulders, fingertips just toying with the hair on the back of his neck.

He was so _pissed,_ and yet seeing her here brought such an ache to his chest.  He wanted to grab her and shake her and scream at her.  _How could you?_   They weren’t her secrets to tell and his life wasn’t worth losing the map, wasn’t worth all the lives of everyone else fighting in the Resistance.  But at the same time, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her he was fine and that he was so sorry he had put her through that pain.

Her fingers moved, brushing across his brow, tucking a curl away, until her fingertip pressed into his temple.  Pressing and pressing.  Still she smiled, that familiar warm and humored quirk to her lips, even as she broke through bone and imbedded the tendril of darkness into his skull.  His muscles constricted and cramped; he wanted to thrash about and get away from her, but his arms and legs were restrained.

“How does it feel?”  Euli asked him.  “To be betrayed so completely by the one you loved?  The one who sought to protect you, but who was she protecting, really?”

Poe woke up with a scream that tore at his still-raw throat.  His hands tried to reach up and claw at the crawling sensation still afflicting his skull, but one arm was bound at his side and the other was tangled in an IV.  It wasn’t until he heard the quiet, reassuring voice of his father that the memory of where he was flooded back to him.

“It’s all right, Poe.  You’re home, boy, you’re home.”

There was a wet cloth being dragged across his forehead, sticking in where the bandages were covering the worst of the gashes.  Poe’s exhales came in short, quick rasps at first and then steadily slowed.  There was a light on in the kitchen, illuminating just enough to see faintly around the rest of the house.  His father looked tired sitting in the wooden chair next to the table; dark circles around his reddened eyes, his shoulders slumped like the weight of the galaxy was bearing down on him.  Poe thought he looked a bit greyer as well.

“How you feelin’?”

Poe groaned.  “How do you think I feel?  Do I need to take this thing with me to take a leak?”

“I’ll take it out, bag’s empty anyway.”  Kes got up and moved to the opposite side of the table, taking out the IV the way the doctor had explained it to him.  He pressed a bit of gauze on Poe’s hand and then helped him sit up.

Poe grunted and swore, but didn’t stop.  He swiveled his hips and pushed off of the table onto his feet, though if his father hadn’t been there, he likely would have crumpled to the floor.  Using a dining table as a bed did not do his back any favors, not to mention all the other injuries.  He leaned on Kes all the way to the door to the refresher who then stood there awkwardly as Poe stepped inside.  “What?  You want to hold it for me, too?”

His father sighed and walked away.  “Call if you need help.”

Yeah, he wasn’t going to ask for help.  Not that going through simple motions wasn’t _excruciating_ and not that just taking a piss made him want to pass out.  Not that washing his hands and brushing his teeth wasn’t a bigger exercise in patience than a long hyperdrive jump in a cramped fighter.  Not that it took him over thirty minutes to complete these uncomplicated tasks.

“I’m fine, Pop,”  he grumbled as he came out of the refresher and leaned heavily on the doorframe.  Stars still danced across his vision, and not in the way that he wanted.

“Yeah.  You look great.”

“You gonna help me or what?”

“You lose your manners out there with that X-Wing?”  Still, Kes walked over and helped Poe shuffle over to the large, worn reclining chair.  Poe rooted around for a minute trying to find the controller for the projector while Kes brought him some more meds and a blanket.  “If you’re looking for news about Jakku, not gonna find anything on the HoloNet.”

“Where’s Arzero?”

“Damnit, Poe.”  Kes huffed and waited until Poe had finished all of the medication he’d given him.  “You can barely stand up.”

“Just need to tell them I’m alive.”  But his eyes were already feeling heavy and he realized in the cocktail he’d just been given along with the antibiotics and vitamins were probably some heavy-duty painkillers.  “Come on, Pop…”

 

~*~

 

Surprisingly, thankfully, when he woke up again it wasn’t from some horrific dream and it wasn’t with the feeling of spikes being driven into his head.  Everything still fucking hurt, a lot, but it was more of a throbbing strain, rather than the stabbing, beat-into-the-floor feeling.  Sunlight was streaming into the house, marking at least mid-day.  The projector was on, playing some sports broadcast.  From the sound of the excited cries of the announcers, the home team was winning.

“Hey, Pop, Poe’s awake,”  the voice of some kid called out nearby.  “Hey, Poe.”

Poe blinked and turned his head slightly, recognizing the teenage boy.  He’d just seen the kid not even six months ago and somehow he looked a head taller.  “Hey, Tinor.  How’s your mom?”

“She’s good.”  He turned back towards the projector and the small holographic figures running back and forth across a field.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Pop pays me twenty cred a week to help out.  Told me he’d pay a hundred if I didn’t tell my mom you crashed an X-Wing and rolled into town on some pirate ship.”

Poe couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped.  “TIE.  I crashed a TIE.”

Tinor turned, the boy’s eyes wide, all innocence and wonder.  “Wow, really?  How’d you get into one of those?  Did you steal it from a museum?”

“I wish.”  Poe groaned and pushed himself up in the chair, tossing away the tangled up blanket and flexing his arms back and forth gingerly.

“Dang.”  Tinor swallowed and then turned away.

Poe realized he probably shouldn’t have said anything.  That saying the word ‘TIE’ and then one look at how mottled his skin was with bruises and cuts, even a kid could make the leap in logic as to what had happened, what was happening.  “Don’t worry, nowhere near this sector.  And it’s gonna stay that way.”

“Traders in town have been talking about the First Order.  They say to stay away from anything in the Galactic West.  How come the Republic doesn’t say anything?”

“Enough of that,”  Kes said as he came into the room, arms full of more medical supplies.  “Help me with this, kid.  Earn your credits.”

Poe let the pair of them pull off the old bandages, clean and check his healing wounds, and then rebandage where he needed it.  He warned his father not to give him anything that was going to make him pass out again.  He needed to contact the Resistance and he needed to have his wits about him when he talked to the General.  It wasn’t even that painful anymore, he lied.  Poe shuffled on his own into his room once they were done, but he couldn’t quite lift both arms over his head to get a fresh shirt on.  Wordlessly he brought the offending shirt out and handed it to his father, hoping he’d get the implied request.

Despite their usual sarcastic and teasing relationship, Kes didn’t say anything as he helped his son slip the shirt over one arm, then his head, then the other arm.  Tinor had gone back to being absorbed in what he was watching on the holo.

“How’d you get so good at this?”  Poe asked when he was done.  “Taking care of invalids?”

Kes smiled lightly, almost scolding him for his choice in words.  “You probably don’t remember.  Near the end, she tried to hide how sick she was from you.”

Poe was quiet for a moment.  “No, I remember.  I guess I just didn’t really think about it.”

“I thought it’d be you taking care of me, not this.  What happened, Poe?”

But Poe just shook his head as he headed towards the front door.  “I don’t have time to go into details, Pop.  Where’s the droid?  I need to see if there are any messages.”

“Recharging in the hangar.  I told it not to bother you.”

“Pop!  I need to know what’s happened!”  He tried to remember how long it had been since he’d seen Lor San Tekka and BB-8.  It was at least two days transit to Yavin IV.  How long had he been on the _Finalizer_?  A day?  And wandering the desert?  Another day?  That was more than enough time to find one droid on Jakku.  He never should have left.  He should have insisted Naka and Ohn help him search for BB-8.

“What’s happened is you showed up on my doorstep almost dead!  That you made me think I was going to have to dig another hole in the yard!”  his father shouted at him.  It was every parent’s greatest fear, and Poe knew he had come very close.  Tinor looked up from the holo to watch their argument.

Poe looked between his father and the boy.  Pop had every right to be upset, but the kid didn’t need to see it.  And he still had a job to do.  “I’m sorry, Pop, but this is important.”

“It’s always important.”

Poe sighed and shook his head and walked out of the house.

“Open a secure connection to D’Qar,”  Poe told R0-H2 once he’d pulled the droid out of the recharging socket and hooked him up into _Black One_.  The droid whistled once the connection had been established.  The call was answered quickly and General Organa’s small projection appeared in front of him on the datapad in his hands.  Poe stood up from leaning on the ladder, not wanting to appear that he was in as much pain as he felt.  “General Organa.”

“Poe, I’m so glad to see you.  When Kes called, it sounded bad.”

Poe scowled slightly, but quickly fixed his expression into something more professional.  “I’m sorry, General.  The First Order knows about the map, and that Beebee-ate has it.  I left Beebee-ate back on Jakku.”

“Beebee-ate is no longer on Jakku, though we don’t think the First Order has found him yet.  Your droid is quite resourceful.  He seems to have made some friends.”  The General’s image was replaced by a First Order bounty listing: a male and a female, no other descriptors other than that they were both human and possessed a BB-droid, orange and white.

There was a long exhale—that was some relief.  Thank the Force for whoever had found his droid and had the guts to defy the First Order that way.  Poe hoped one day he could meet them and thank them.

“Take the time to recover.  Major Brance will send word when we need you.”

“There’s one other thing, General,”  Poe cut in before the transmission went out.  He took a deep breath before he started,  “The First Order knows our base is on D’Qar.  I’m sorry, General, I shouldn’t—“

Leia raised her hand, stopping his apology.  “It’s not your fault, Poe.  We’ll start looking at new locations and prep for evac.”  She sighed and leaned closer to the projector, looking like she wished she could reach out and give him a hug.  “I’m so glad you’re alive, Poe.”

When he walked back into the house after the transmission, Kes had laid out some lunches, which Tinor had taken and sat back on the couch in front of the projector.  “I thought you said you got paid to help out around here.”

“Yeah, help eat all the food,”  Kes snorted.  “Resistance still going without you?”

“Yeah, Pop.”

Dr. Lalapo dropped by in the evening to check on Poe.  Poe commented he was surprised the old man was still working, and the response was Poe was lucky he still was.  From the light gossip between Lalapo and his father, Poe picked up that the new, younger doctor working in town wasn’t as discreet.  He also brought news that the Defense Force’s tank would be available the next day, but Poe declined.  He didn’t want to have to lie or make excuses to his friends in the YDF on why he was beaten to a pulp.  Not to mention, he was already feeling much better and the despite the General giving him permission to take time to recover, he needed to get back to the Resistance as soon as possible.  The doctor said he’d come by again the next day and check on him and ask again if he still didn’t want to go into the tank, but Poe knew he would already be gone before then.

Just before bed, as Kes was tidying up after the last bandage change and Poe was trying to stretch, his eyes caught a new image projector tucked into a shelf next to a dirty, abandoned caf cup and a multitool that never made it back into a toolbox.  Shock, hurt, disbelief were just some of the things he felt as he watched the small image hover and then repeat.  “What is this, Pop?”

Kes grinned as he watched Poe pull the small disc from the shelf.  “I think Yoren gave that to me.  He was splicing the footage from the festival for the tourism brochure.  Thought I might like it.  I don’t have any recent pictures of you, you know.”

In his hands was a small hologram of him and Euli at the end of Midsummer party.  Arms wrapped around each other, smiling and swaying.  They were laughing, having fun, and he kissed her, and then the image restarted.  His fingers clenched around the grey object and then he hurled it, with every ounce of strength he had left, into the wall.  It cracked and sparked and shattered into several pieces as it fell to the floor.  Poe winced and held a hand to his ribs because that was not a smart thing to do.

“What the hell, Poe!”

But Poe didn’t answer him, just stalked off towards his room, resisting every urge to continue lashing out and telling his father _exactly_ what had happened.

 

~*~

 

Major Brance called mid-morning the next day.  BB-8 had been spotted by someone sympathetic to the Resistance and the message had been passed on.  Poe and Kes had an argument when Poe tried to run systems checks on _Black One_ and discovered the starter fuses had been pulled.  He was moving better, even Kes had to admit.  He managed to get himself showered and dressed on his own, and he insisted the pain wasn’t as bad.  Kes knew the boy was lying, but as he kept getting reminded, his son was a grown-ass man who could make his own decisions.

“I really thought we won.  That even though all you ever wanted to do was fly, you wouldn’t have to fight,”  Kes said sadly after Poe had found the starter fuses and reinstalled them.  He stood now in his flight suit, double checking the belts and fittings.

Poe walked over and placed a hand on his father’s shoulder.  “It’s not your fault the Republic got complacent.  You’re the one who told me we always had to be vigilant.  If that Star Destroyer is really headed to Takodana, we’re gonna let the galaxy know.  The First Order is a real threat and the Republic needs to deal with it.”

“Okay, okay, of course,”  Kes said, reluctantly nodding.  “And the thing with Euli?  You gonna fill me in on that?”

Poe winced and shook his head.  “If she comes here, you send her away, Pop.  Don’t let her in, don’t listen to anything she has to say.”

Kes huffed, but pulled his son in for a hug.  It sounded like a whole lot of bantha shit, but there wasn’t time to have an argument over it and that’s not what Kes wanted.  “You take care of yourself, boy.  Let those other pilots of yours carry some of the load.  Don’t try to do everything.”

“You got it, Pop.  Let’s go, Arzero.”

As the black X-Wing lifted off with his son inside, Kes raised his arm in a wave.  Quietly, he offered a prayer up to the Force and Shara and whatever else was out there in the galaxy, asking to please take care of his son.


	9. The Last Day of the Republic

**Hosnian Prime**

**The Destruction of the Hosnian System**

 

“I told you, I’m not answering any questions without an advocate!  You have no right to hold me here!  I am a citizen in this Republic!  I have rights!”  Throughout her loud rant, Euli’s finger jabbed into the metal table she was seated at.  When the hospital had finally relinquished its hold, the pair of HopSec officers had been waiting for her.  If Altus hadn’t been there, she probably would have taken the chance on fighting them off, but he reminded her that resisting would give them even more of a reason to bring her in and hold her.

At least while her thoughts were occupied with how she was going to get out of this situation, she couldn’t dwell on Poe.

“That’s the thing, _Ms. Avedis_ ,”  Investigator Kivarra said her name derisively.  “There doesn’t seem to be a record of anyone with that name.  Which is pretty extraordinary considering the number of people in the galaxy.  If you don’t exist, how can you be a citizen?”

Euli’s mouth clamped shut and her fingers twisted together in her lap.  It would be no use explaining it to them.  It would take far too much time and they likely wouldn’t believe it, and any proof she had to back up her story was all on D’Qar.  It’s not like it was any of their business anyway.

“And we know you’re not related to Captain Pramony—“  He paused for just a second as she visibly bristled, but still remained silent.  “We’re not entirely sure what to make of him.  He had been arrested for sedition, but when Senator Donam released those files to the HoloNet, it exonerated him.  Why would he be trying to help you when you murdered the man that cleared his name?”

She tried to find something else to focus on.  Her eyes looked past the investigator to the wall behind him and tried to take her mind somewhere else.  However, every step she took away from the anger and the need to loudly correct his assumptions took her towards the empty space in her heart where there was supposed to be Poe.  Kivarra was still talking, muted somewhere in the distance.  Euli was trying to find Poe.  Those thick, curly locks and his dark brown eyes, so full of warmth and humor and resolve, but he was gone.

“What the hell is going on here?”  The sudden sharp voice startled her and it was only then she realized her face was dripping—that she had been crying.

Kivarra got to his feet and sighed, the datapad in his hand thumping loudly against the table as he pushed away.  “I didn’t do anything.  And don’t worry, Your Honor, she didn’t say a damn word.”  He paused for just a second, his detective’s mind finally starting to put some of the pieces together.  “Whatever’s going on here, it’s way above my pay grade.”

“Turn off recording devices, or I’ll have your badge,”  the new arrival warned, receiving a dismissive wave of the hand and a grumbled agreement in reply.  He settled into the chair opposite Euli, his thick arms resting on the table.  “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Major.”

Euli blinked, her eyes finally coming into focus at the person now in front of her.  He was older, fatter, balder, in a much nicer suit, but he carried himself as he had before.  His eyes were still sharp, seeing everything.  “He called you ‘Your Honor?’”

The man grinned, unnaturally white teeth glinting behind his lips.  “I’ve been a judge for almost ten years.  I have you to thank, partly.  Your case brought me some notoriety and a few influential friends in the Senate for how we handled things.”

“For how we covered things up,”  she corrected.  “Where’s Altus?”

“Just outside.  How are you…?”  His meaty hand waved slightly, obviously indicating the fact that she had aged barely a year or so since he’d defended her in her court martial.

“Carbonite.  Twenty-five years.”  She wouldn’t say more, just got to her feet, the chair squeaking noisily behind her.  “I can leave, right?  That’s why you’re here?”

The man sighed, his fingers drumming on the surface of the table lightly.  “You can leave this building, yes.  They’re working to get an order to compel prints and a sample.  They’re going to do everything to the letter now that I’m involved, which gives us some time to get our stories straight.  Once they put you in that apartment and dig up your connection to Donam, I’ll make you the best deal I can.”

Euli scoffed and shook her head at him.  “You’ve grown to be a weak old fool, haven’t you?  There was a hangar full of witnesses that saw me try to murder that man with my bare hands and you got _attempted homicide_ pushed down to _conduct unbecoming_.  This?  Some barely visible image of someone who is maybe a woman about my height who also has short, dark hair?  I don’t have time for this.  I have to get to Jakku.”

“What’s on Jakku?”

Her teeth clamped tightly together.  No, no one could know.  She shouldn’t even have said the name of the planet.  “Probably nothing.” 

“You’re going to have to stay on Hosnian Prime.”  It was a definitive sort of statement, spoken by someone who was used to having his advice heeded.  As if she had no real choice in the matter.

“They can’t hold me here if they haven’t charged me.”

“Things have changed, Major,”  he said, not seeming to notice how she scowled and crossed her arms even tighter across her chest every time he used her former rank.  “Especially in recent years since the Napkin Bombing.  Law enforcement has been given much more leeway, particularly when it comes to crimes targeting the Senate.”

It sounded decidedly Imperial.  She felt a little sick in the back of her throat, all of the snide things Poe had said about the Republic trickling back into her memories.  Euli had ignored him, seeing his obstinacy more like an adult viewing a child’s naïve view of the world.  In her mind, she couldn’t imagine a Republic that could so quickly slip back into old dogma.  Perhaps she should have listened and believed the people around her who challenged her narrow, and wrong, view.

“They know which freighter is yours.  Your nephew is too straight laced for his own good.  Paying for your docking fees out of his own accounts.”  The man stood, resting a friendly hand on her shoulder.  “Just keep your head down.  I will do my best to steer them away from you as a person of interest.”

 

~*~

 

The Selonian followed her back to the docking platform.  Euli wasn’t sure if he was trying to be stealthy or not, but she had caught sight of him.  As soon as she was aboard the _Aldera’s Song,_ she checked for messages, but there were none.  En-one informed her that she would be unable to make a secure connection to the Resistance from this location as well.  Euli knew how closely guarded Poe kept the Resistance’s location and its secrets; she wouldn’t take the chance sending a broadcast.

She was running systems checks and calculating jump coordinates when Altus arrived.  He found her hunched over the navicomputer and hoisted her up into a hug, despite that she had been in the middle of something.  He took slow, deliberate breaths as he held onto her, quietly calming his emotions.  Euli sighed and patted the poor boy on the back.

“I’m fine, Altus.”

“What did Judge Boren have to say?  Must have been crazy seeing him again after all this time.”

“He said I can’t leave and that he’ll try and get me a deal.  Ass.  I hope you’re not paying him as much as your mother did.”

He pulled away looking worried.  “What are you going to do?”

Euli just frowned at him and shook her head.  What she wouldn’t give to have his mother around, she almost said it, but didn’t.  It would be too cruel.  “I know what I’m doing, but I need to know what you’re doing before I say.  I’m not going to make you my accomplice, although I should just not give you the choice.  Something terrible is coming, Altus.  The Force is… unsteady.”

“So you’re a master of the Force now?”  He scoffed and shook his head in disbelief.  “From what I remember, you hated the Force.”

“Desperate times, I suppose.”  Her foot tapped impatiently as she looked up at him.  “So?  Are you coming with me?  The Resistance will have a spot for you.”  It was a desperate grasp at trying to keep him with her.  He had done everything exactly how he should have.  He didn’t fight with the hospital staff when they insisted on the twenty-four hour hold for a psyche evaluation; he let the officers take her afterwards and promptly found her an advocate.  In all of this, his hands were perfectly clean.  There was no reason for him to come, except that he was the only family she had left.

“Is that what you’re going to do?  Fight with the Resistance?”

Eventually.  First she was going to Jakku to try and find Poe’s mission, the map.  Then she’d find that monster, Kylo Ren, and she’d take him apart piece by piece.  She figured, she was barely a person anymore, just a hollowed-out husk.  Might as well put her still-functioning bits to good use and go down fighting.  “I’m going to make them pay for Poe.”

The Rebellion hadn’t been about the politics for Euli.  She didn’t care about the Republic until well into the War.  For the majority, it had been about killing Imperials.  It had been about revenge and making every last one of them pay for Alderaan.  It was the same again.  She didn’t care about the First Order, only that every single one of the people under that banner deserved death for killing Poe.

Perhaps Altus saw that and didn’t want to be a tool for her revenge.  Or perhaps he just remained satisfied in his own position in life.  “My life is here, Euli.  The First Order—if they’re even real—if they’re a threat, then the Republic’s fleet will answer it.  This is how the rule of law works.  This is how our government works.  Please, this whole thing is going to blow over.  Just do what Boren wants.”

She wrapped her arms around him, her hand reaching up to pull his head down onto her shoulder.  For a moment, she thought of the little boy curled up in her arms, putting off going to bed.  “I am proud of you, and I know your mother is, too.  I am so thankful I got the chance to see you again.”

“You’re running, aren’t you?”

“I will take this chance, and the next,”  she said quietly.  It was that old rebel mentality.  Deal with each problem in the moment until you were out of problems, or out of chances.

When Altus pulled away, there were tears in his eyes, just as there were in Euli’s.  “Please, take care of yourself.”

Euli nodded as he walked towards the hatch.  It would be a false promise, but if it made him feel better, she could pretend for a moment she wasn’t about to throw herself bodily into this conflict with no regard to whether or not she survived.  “Hey, kid—may the Force be with you.”

Altus ducked his head and let out a shocked little laugh, but acknowledged her uncharacteristic choice of parting words.  “You, too.”

It was several excruciatingly long hours until Euli could put her plan into motion.  She had to wait for shift changes, the lighter late evening traffic.  Even the Selonian tailing her had seemed to clock out and go home for the night.  Poe rarely talked about his missions with her, but there were times, especially towards the end, that Euli was brought in on more operational procedures.  He told her about Threepio and his droid network—how droids moved about practically unnoticed, so they were exceptional for subterfuge.  Euli put a lot of hope into that idea as she sent her astromech out into the docking facility with strict instructions: disable the locking mechanisms and the tractor beams.  It’d have to be on a timer, but a fast one so no one would notice.  She had En-one time going back and forth to see how long it would take because they couldn’t afford even seconds.

Getting the old Surron freighter going from a cold start was tricky and Euli didn’t have time to test that part of the plan out.  It was all guesswork, but as soon as En-one whistled at her over the comm that he was on his way, Euli initiated the start up protocols.  There was a warning from the dockmaster to shut down her engines, but she replied that she was just doing a systems check, no need to worry.

“It’ll take five minutes,”  she insisted.  A glance out the viewport showed uniformed security officers beginning to take notice.

As soon as En-one’s wheels hit the ramp, alarms had gone off in the facility.  She barely gave the droid the chance to close the hatch before the freighter was lifting up off the ground.  “Let’s see what this old bird can do,”  she said under her breath, almost in a prayer.

“ _Aldera’s Song_ you are currently impounded!  Land and shut down your engines immediately!  Lock tractors—what the—“  The comm cut off on the other side, obviously not wanting the now fugitive to hear that they’d lost one of their systems.

R6-N1 rolled into the cockpit whistling excitedly and plugged into the scomp port to take over co-piloting duties.

Despite herself, Euli grinned.  “Yeah, I think they’re a little unhappy with us.”

The droid whistled again, the translation readout telling her that he had picked up two vessels launching to pursue.

“We just have to break atmo, then we can jump.”

The freighter was slow and stiff and whatever the cops were flying were quick and nimble.  Not exactly starfighters but it would be more than a challenge to outrun and outmaneuver.  Of course, she guessed, she had a lot more years of outclassing TIEs in a Y-Wing under her belt than these locals.

Just getting out of the docking facility was a lesson in turning capability, but they got out with just barely grazing another ship coming in for a landing.  That guy was definitely not happy.  Neither were the security officers loudly commanding her back to the ground.  Her fingers flipped the comm switch, shutting them down.

“Come on, En-one!  Push—shit.”  The ship lurched to the left and then stuttered from its steep climb.  Perhaps if the comm had been on, Euli would have heard the warning that they would fire if she didn’t return to the surface.  One of the thrusters stuttered and died and En-one diverted power the other to compensate.  The freighter was even more sluggish and less maneuverable.  Euli swore loudly and gave an annoyed yell, then snapped at the droid to take over piloting.

Euli pulled up the targeting computer and switched her controls to the weapons.  She found that place in her mind where she had been the fighter.  The one with her fingers wrapped snug around a flightstick, a blue helmet pushing against her skull, the lights flashing on black in front of her.  The part of her mind where the whole galaxy was laid out in front of her and she could _see._   Two bursts of red left the blaster turret and struck one of the pursuing craft, sending it spiraling downward.

There was a bit of bile working its way in the back of her throat as she watched the red blip fade away on the targeting scanner, but she swallowed it down and took back the flight controls.  She could outpace the one remaining.  They were only a few seconds from the halo of blue around the city-planet.

A panel sparked as the ship lurched again, another hit, shields were starting to fail.

A voice was screaming in her head, but maybe it was her own.

_Come on.  Come on.  Come on._

_Don’t forget to breathe._

_You need to go faster._

_It’s coming, Major!  It’s coming, please!_

Her heartbeat sped up, but not because of the chase.  Something else was coming.

They broke atmosphere as a second pair of fighters, real X-Wings this time, broke off from the orbiting patrol and made way to intercept.  But her hand was already on the lever and pulled it back.

Jump complete.

Behind her, the Republic fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter because it's my birthday! Also because I'll be out of town soon and it'll fall during a posting week, so I'm adjusting the schedule so I won't have to worry about it while I'm gone.
> 
> Any guesses on what's _finally_ happening in the next chapter.


	10. Hollowed Out Hearts

**D'Qar**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

The shockwave had knocked the _Aldera’s Song_ from hyperspace.  Again, the Force saw fit to spare her.  To keep her physical body going, at least.  The Force had taken all of the things that had mattered.  She had slept through the parts where the galaxy—the dark and the light—were at peace.  Even if it was just the appearance of peace.  If there was a reason she was kept around for the catastrophes, she didn’t see it.

The repairs took days.  The astromech spent the entire time complaining, but without the little sass bucket’s help, she never would have gotten the old freighter fixed up enough to at least ensure life support wouldn’t fail.  With the most important system stabilized, they moved onto engines and communications.

“There’s only static.”  Euli sat in the pilot’s seat with her hand resting on the control, the headset hanging around her neck.  En-one beeped at her and there was a long pause before she glanced down at the console to read the translation.  “Yeah.  Half the relays in this sector are gone.  I get it.”

The Hosnian system was gone.  Another asteroid field that used to be a planet.  Another massive graveyard in the stars.  Euli couldn’t dwell on it; it would drive her to madness if she focused too long on Poe or Altus or the _billions_ of lives that had been lost.  While they worked on getting the hyperdrive back online, Euli managed to tap into some backwater chatter in neighboring sectors.  Bits and pieces eventually fit together that told the story of a final stand was to be made on the First Order’s superweapon.

Euli didn’t know what to do.  The location of the First Order was somewhere in the Unknown Regions.  There was no way to know if the Star Destroyer was still over Jakku—if what was on Jakku even mattered anymore now that it seemed the final battle was already underway.  They were out there going after her vengeance without her.  Her whole body ached with the grief and the only place she could think to go was to the only person who understood what this felt like.  Euli hoped whatever was left of the Resistance could stand against this horrible vestige of that hated Empire.  She also hoped her ship would survive the jump.

Her luck held and the jump was made, ship and passengers arriving in the Ileenium system unscathed.  There was no greeting waiting for them, no fighters patrolling the planet’s orbit or comm chatter demanding she submit clearance codes.  She settled down onto D’Qar’s tarmac as the only ship.  It was hauntingly empty.  Her feet took the halting steps down the ramp and across the worn permacreet.  Even the wind had stopped as if the whole, empty planet was in mourning.  Not a ship, not a person, anywhere in sight.

Just as she was about to drop to the ground and admit defeat, there was a rush of noise overhead.  Suddenly, ship after ship appeared in the sky.  X-Wings, drop ships, cruisers… all that had survived of the Resistance.  There was a faltering breath in her lungs and the tiniest spark of hope because some had lived.  Even if they had lost, they could rebuild, maybe.  Recruit more to the cause.  After the fall of Alderaan, people had joined the Rebellion in droves.

Overwhelmed and raw with emotion, Euli could only stand there as people rushed past.  People came out from the base to welcome those who had returned and throngs rushed off their ships to greet them.  Soon, there was a massive crowd cheering and hugging.  Strangers and people she almost recognized slapped her on the shoulder, but she just stood in that sea of people, so out of place.  Something else was happening in the midst of the crowd, beyond where she could see.  A more reserved sort of celebration moved with whatever was happening, a hush of respect—perhaps someone of importance had been lost.  Maybe… her heart clenched in her chest and she started to try and push her way through.

“Euli!”  A familiar voice shouted her name and someone scooped her up from behind, spinning her around.  He whooped and laughed and squeezed her like she as an apparition about to float away.  “I can’t believe you’re here!  I was so worried!”

She turned and wrapped her arms around Bastian’s neck, embracing him just as tightly.  A hoarse sob left her throat and she could barely get the words out.  “Please tell me you killed him.”

“I don’t know exactly who you want dead, but that terrible weapon is gone.  We did it!”  He pulled back and smiled wide at her, pure joy on his face.  “You gotta be so proud of him.  What a shot!”

Tears dripped down her face.  She was proud, so proud.  She only wished Poe could be there to see it all, see how they had won.  “He’d be so proud of you, Bastian.  Is Jess okay?”

“Yeah, Jess, Snap.  We lost Asty, a few others.”

“Did you find Beebee-ate?  I want to see him, tell him how sorry I am about Poe and how brave Poe was and how I tried to get to him—“  She had started blubbering, her words slurring with the hiccups as she cried.

“Hey, hey.”  Bastian grasped her shoulders and looked at her strangely.  His smile had lost some of the intensity, his brows pressed together slightly in confusion.  “What’s going on?  What’s the matter?”

“Poe!  Poe’s dead!”  He had to catch her before she fell to the ground.  All of that running—the frenzied escape from the Capital.  The sleepless days and nights spent expending every effort to fix the ship and try and make it back to the Resistance.  All of those things had kept her from spending too much time in grief.  It caught up to her suddenly, and she dissolved into a weeping, moaning mess against his chest.

“Whoa.  Hey, come on now.”  There was a chuckle that escaped.  It vibrated in his chest and puffed against the top of her head.  He pulled her away from him and the smile was back on his face.  “Who do you think took out that base?  Sure as hell wasn’t me.  Only one pilot crazy and good enough to do what he did.”

“What?”  Euli blinked at him, because why would he be going on like that?  Poe was dead.  She knew it in the deepest parts of her soul that he was gone.  But Bastian took a step to the side and jerked his hand behind him.  It was as if the sea of people and machinery had finally parted and her vision was no longer just this blur of colors.  There was _Black One_ , scorched and scarred, but resting on the tarmac next to the rest of the X-Wings.  The crowds were thinning as people moved back into the base or broke away to attend to other tasks.  Some were still hugging and congratulating each other, but what was once hollering and celebration had settled to an elated buzz.  There was a glint of the sun hitting metal and Euli saw BB-8 rolling next to a young woman who was crouched down near him.

She saw the back of him first.  The sway of the safety harness behind him.  The slight roll in his shoulder like it had been bothering him.  The way his fist was just clenched at his side; he was annoyed, upset, or some combination of the two.  His other hand reached up and raked through his hair before he turned and waved at one of the technicians.

“POE!”  Her legs could not run fast enough.  It was like slogging through mud, or a dream.  But she was awake—she had to be.  Euli knew she looked absolutely terrible.  Her face was streaked with tears, her hair in its usual mess.  Her clothes were rumpled and she knew she probably smelled like someone for whom hygiene had become a secondary concern.  But none of that mattered.  There he was—standing, moving, talking—not dead.

She threw herself onto him.  Her lips traced a wet trail across his face and her arms clung tightly around his neck.  She was terrified to let go.  This could all be a trick and he would disappear if she didn’t hold onto him as tightly as she could.  She started blubbering again, thanking the Force and the stars as her lips continued their messy journey until she pressed them into his.

Poe just stood there.

 

~*~

 

Part of him had actually hoped the Hosnian system had taken her with it.

Poe was never a coward.  He always stood firm and tall and never backed down from a challenge, or ran away just because life got hard.  But part of him never wanted to have to deal with her again.  He didn’t want to face this moment.  He stood stock still as she wrapped herself around him, crying and laying sloppy kisses across his face.  Was she asking for forgiveness?  He couldn’t really make out much of what she was saying, but it didn’t sound that way.

“What are you doing here?”  The shock faded and his voice finally made words.  Cold, even, firm.

“I thought you were dead,”  she said quietly, her breath hot and moist against his neck, her fingers curling into his hair.  “I felt it.  You were just… gone.”

“I escaped.  You shouldn’t be here.”  He lifted his arms—the left reminding him that even though he’d gotten a bacta treatment to speed healing, it still wasn’t back to normal.  The pain meds weren’t doing much to dull what had been further abuse on his body during the battle.  He grabbed her arms, mentally holding himself back from squeezing too hard and thrusting her forcefully back.  He took a step backwards once he had disentangled himself and released his hold on her, now a safe distance away.

She looked at him with her eyes wide in shock.  Her mouth opened and closed before a shaky, but loud, response came.  “I came to help!  Where else would I go?!”

“ _You have done enough,_ ”  he told her sharply.  Each word its own intentional little dagger.  “If Beebee-ate hadn’t found Finn and Rey—who knows what the First Order could have done!  And Finn…”  Poe’s cold mask broke slightly as he ran a hand through his hair and glanced away in frustration.  “Kid saved my life and he didn’t have to.  He almost died and he never would have been in that position if you would have kept your damn mouth shut!”

“I—I—“  The words stammered out as she stood there, continuing to pretend to be surprised.  “What are you talking about?”

“How could you?  You should have just let me go!”  he shouted at her.  Several heads had turned and the noise around them dropped a decibel as those still gathered on the tarmac stopped what they were doing and turned to watch.  “You just do what you want and damn the rest of us.  You gave him the location to our base!  Our _home_ , Euli!  For what, huh?  He did exactly what you said he would.  He used you to get to me and you made it so fucking easy for him.”

Her mouth was still open, shocked little gasps going in and out.  Her head shook minutely back and forth.  Those light brown eyes, puffy and red, turned from the pained joy of seeing him alive to that defiant glare he remembered.  “I didn’t give him anything!  How dare you put that on me!”

“I was there!”

“So was I!”

But _there_ was some weird, metaphysical Force nonsense.  He had been on the _Finalizer_ over Jakku and she had been on Hosnian Prime.  There was a large expanse of space and stars in between them, but she had been close enough to see and to smell.  Close enough for her betrayal to dig into his chest and crush a piece of him into unrecoverable crumbs.

“He told me what he wanted.  He tried to take it from me, but I didn’t know what it was.  I—“   She was struggling, either with trying to describe the ridiculous experience they had been through or just trying to cover up what she had done.  “And then there was nothing.  You were gone.”

Poe was done.  “Get out of here.  Leave!”  he shouted.  Bastian had started to walk over, finally seeking to intervene instead of gawk.  Poe turned his attention to his Lieutenant.  “Take her back to her ship.  Escort her to the edge of the system.  If she refuses, shoot her.”

“Poe!“  She practically shrieked his name.

“No!  I’m not going to let you stand here and lie to me.”

Euli had started to reach for him again, but Bastian took her hand gently and pulled her back from Poe.  “Come on.  Give him some space.”

She looked back at him as Bastian nearly dragged her away.  Her face was dirty and tear-stained; she looked confused, and hurt.    An act.

“Get back to work!”  he shouted again, this time at the people still watching after Euli and Bastian had walked away.  “We have less than a week to clear out of this system!”

Poe went back to what he was doing, though it took him a few minutes to steady his breathing and remember what exactly he had been in the middle of.  He needed to make sure all of the X-Wings were in good enough shape to make the next few jumps.  See which ones were in the best condition to run patrols, or recon missions.  The list in his head was still running when a soft throat cleared behind him.

“Poe… Poe Dameron, right?”  It was that girl, Rey, the one Finn had talked about, the one he insisted they rescue.  She was small and dirty with eyes aged well beyond her body.  Poe could tell that she, too, had been crying.  He had seen her with General Organa, no doubt trying to offer some comfort over the one they couldn’t save.  “Are you okay?”

Poe sighed.  No one else deserved to get the sharp end of his anger, least of all the girl that by all accounts was the true hero of this battle.  Sure, he could fly an X-Wing and shoot an already damaged oscillator, but she had resisted, escaped, and nearly bested that monster Kylo Ren.  He had only done one of those three, and he had help.  “I will be once Finn wakes up and we’re all someplace safe.  Thanks again for what you did for Beebee-ate.”

The girl stood there awkwardly, her fingers pulling at the threads of the wrappings around her wrists.  Poe got the feeling she wanted to ask about what had just transpired, but that was none of her business.  It was none of anyone’s business.  He still had to figure out how to explain it all to the General.  Poe couldn’t imagine having to dump all of that on her after what she had just lost.  Major Brance would probably have him transcribe everything into some useless official report.  Maybe Euli would do them all the favor of leaving and he could put off telling anyone until they got off D’Qar.

“I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do.  If you check on Finn, can you let me know how he’s doing?”

“Of course,”  she took a small breath and turned slightly to walk away.  “I hope you feel better.”  She turned and walked towards the base, her fingers curling slightly towards BB-8.

The droid beeped at Poe, his dome cocking to the side in question.  Poe just nodded, granting quiet permission.  It was a strange sensation—that somehow he had entered into this stage of sharing custody of the droid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.


	11. Severed Threads

**D'Qar**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

Bastian didn’t listen to his Commander.  It was probably the first time since they’d been in a squadron together that he had disregarded anything Poe had said.  He took Euli into the base, found her a place to wash up, and asked her if she needed to see a medic about anything.  He found her something to eat and Euli could only mumble her thanks, still dazed by everything that had happened.

Euli didn’t understand why Poe was so angry with her.  She didn’t know what she had done to set him off in such a way, but what he had said had crawled into her skin, burrowed through bone and muscle and settled right into her heart.  Before, when she had so few memories of her past, she had told him she didn’t want to remember because she knew she had been angry and miserable and cruel.  He didn’t believe it then—wouldn’t let her believe it about herself.  Now, his anger and doubt had cut into back into that dark place.  Maybe the blinders had finally come off and he no longer believed in her.

Having Bastian as her escort did little for her mood other than to make her worry about his own relationship with Poe.  She told him to get back to work, that she would be fine.  Poe and the Resistance were the ones that needed his help.

“I’m a little worried about what Poe will do if he sees me and you’re still here.”  Bastian shook his head.  “I don’t know what got into him.”

“If Poe wants to shoot me, he can damn well do it himself.”  Euli tried to make it sound full of bluster, as if the threat hadn’t stunned and hurt, but was pretty sure Bastian could see right through her.  She didn’t think that Poe was truly capable of hurting her—not physically, at least.  Whatever had happened to Poe… Euli couldn’t even think about it.  Didn’t want to think of how it could have actually changed the man she remembered, loved.

Earlier, when Bastian had offered to take her by the infirmary, she had declined.  Surely, there were others with real medical issues that needed attending to.  She was fine, mostly.  Her wandering feet took her in that direction anyway.  She never would have admitted it, but she did want to see Dr. Denn before they all left.

In the familiar infirmary, Denn hugged her and told her it would be okay.  He was busy, already coordinating the transfer of all the equipment and personnel onto Admiral Statura’s cruiser.  “Just like the old days, huh?  Jumping across the Outer Rim, trying to stay a step ahead of the Imps.  Flying that shitty freighter, or are you finally getting back into a fighter?”

Euli bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders.  She knew she’d never jump with the fleet, not with the state Poe was in.  She just couldn’t say it out loud yet.  “I’m worried about him.  What the First Order put him through…”

“I’ll tell Kalonia to keep an eye on him, too.  He was in rough shape when he showed up back here, not going to lie.  We both know the wounds you can’t see take a lot longer to heal.”  She nodded again at his words, and with uncharacteristic affection, he embraced her again.  “Take care of yourself, kid.”

Euli tried to stay out of the way, puttering around in the infirmary for most of the evening.  It was a familiar space, a safe space.  She helped a technician box up equipment, but mostly just sat in a fog.  Late into the evening, she settled into a chair next to an infirmary bed that was occupied by a man they called Finn.  Euli had been told he had done something extraordinary.

“When you wake up, you should ask Poe about Bodhi Rook.  He was an Imperial pilot who defected from the Empire.  He’s the reason there was a Rebellion at all.  Took a stand, did the right thing, helped the people who were supposed to be the enemy.”  She let out a long breath as she watched the silent, sleeping man.  Denn had told her, but then everyone else who passed through and spotted Finn and then her, told her as well.    Finn was the hero, the man with the plan—the reason there was still a Resistance.  “He loves those sorts of stories.”

After another long, quiet moment, she leaned forward in her chair.  Close so that he could hear, if he could hear, and because she didn’t want anyone else to overhear.  “Thank you,”  she said quietly.  “Even if it’s broken now, thank you.”

There was a soft throat clearing behind her and Euli sat back up quickly and pushed her sleeves up under her eyes, clearing away the tears that seemed to be unceasing as of late.  “I’m sorry, I took your seat.”

“No, no,”  the girl said, halting Euli from standing.  Instead, she moved to the other side of the bed, her hip just resting on the edge as she found her friend’s hand and held it.  “I’m Rey.”

Euli nodded, sniffing slightly.  “Yes, I’ve heard of you.  Bastian told me you found Beebee-ate on Jakku and brought him back to the Resistance.  Thank you.”

“You’re with the Resistance?”  She seemed a bit surprised by the notion.  Then she said, as if answering her own question,  “Of course you are.  Why else would you be here?”

Euli shook her head.  “No, I’m not.  They rescued me awhile ago and I just… hung around, I suppose.”  Rey nodded, understanding.  The Resistance was made up of good people, helping all sorts in need.  “I’m sorry, I should go.  I just wanted to tell your friend thank you.  He saved Poe, and I—“

She stopped abruptly.  Euli was about to admit to this stranger that she couldn’t face a galaxy without Poe in it.  That for several days when she thought he was dead, it was as if all the stars had gone out.  Instead, she said,  “A galaxy without Poe is a terrible place.”

“I asked Beebee-ate who you were,”  Rey said, again stopping Euli from leaving.  “But what he said didn’t quite make sense.  He said you were both old and young, that you knew Poe’s mother, but that you were also his…”  Rey’s words trailed off as a blush started to color her cheeks.  “Mate.”

There had been no definition of their relationship.  They had been in love and practically lived together, and that had been enough for them at the time.  To a droid who probably didn’t really differentiate between the rituals of different organic cultures, ‘mate’ was obviously the correct term.  “That’s over now.  He hates me.”  Her shoulders shrugged as if she had resigned herself to this sudden, empty existence.  What else could she say—that Poe had momentarily lost grip on reality?

“No,”  Rey said, a studying look on her face as she watched the woman across from her.  She was watching Euli in the unique, but familiar manner, looking not just with her eyes.  “He doesn’t hate you.  He’s upset and in so much pain.  I don’t think he could hate you, even if he wants to.”

 “How do you—“  Her words stopped, suddenly feeling it.  It had always been there, but she had been so consumed with her own grief, her own pain.  Euli had failed to notice the gentle observing eye, the wisps of strings spreading out from the girl, cautiously probing the world around her.  In that instant, Rey reminded her of the little girl she knew, killed.  Not altogether pure in the same way, but honest and determined.  And she was jealous.  Rey could feel Poe.  Euli could not.  “Kylo Ren did something to him.  Something…”

“I don’t think there are words to describe what a horrible monster he is,”  Rey said quietly as her eyes grazed across the man in front of her.  Euli could feel the sadness and worry spilling out of her.  And something else—the familiar seed of vengeance was sprouting in the girl.  Rey’s fingers reached up and just brushed across his temple as if quietly letting him know that she was still there.  “Can you tell me about the Force?  They want me to find Luke Skywalker, but he’s… a legend.  I already feel overwhelmed, and a bit of everything all at once.”

Euli continued to watch Rey for a moment and didn’t answer right away.  What a terrible state the galaxy must be in if someone was asking _her_ questions about the Force.  “I don’t know anything about the Force, Rey.  Other than no matter how hard you fight against it, eventually you will do what it wants.”

“The Force doesn’t let us have free will?”  It was an honest, earnest question, but any answer Euli may have had never came.

“What are you still doing here?”  Poe’s voice was sharp, cutting through the calm quiet of the infirmary.

Euli nearly jumped in her seat as his voice startled her.  She was about to get up and get out of there quickly before she either broke down or got into another shouting match with him.  She couldn’t even look up at him.  Didn’t want to see those dark eyes boring into her with none of the warmth she knew.  Instead, Rey stood with her shoulders back and a serious look on her so far curious, but reserved, face.  “I asked her to stay.  This woman knows the Force and I needed to speak with her.”

Euli grimaced; she hadn’t even given the girl her name.  She expected some smart or sarcastic retort from Poe—maybe even something mean-spirited considering their earlier conversation.  But none came, just an annoyed huff of air.  Whatever trust and hope the Resistance and Leia had put into Rey seemed to trump whatever opinions Poe had on the matter.  “Euli, can I talk to you?  Please?”  He sounded almost polite.

Her head cocked slightly and she looked up at Rey.  “What do you think?  Is he going to shoot me?”  She was joking, mostly, even if there wasn’t any humor in her voice.

Rey seemed to understand however, and gave her a small smile.  “The Force always gets its way, right?  I don’t think it’s done with any of us yet.”

 

~*~

 

Poe had kept himself busy the whole day:  briefings with the Admirals and the General, issuing missions to the squadrons, seeing to maintenance and crew reassignments, and ensuring that the next of kin of those who had died were notified.  Anything to keep his mind off her.

He had wanted to check on Finn.  He knew that Rey had hardly left his side, but he still wanted to be there if he woke up.  He knew Euli was still on the base, despite his orders to Bastian.  The _Aldera’s Song_ was still taking up a spot on the tarmac and he had seen Bastian who had darted off to some other task as soon as he caught sight of Poe.  What Poe hadn’t expected was to find her sitting next to Finn and having a conversation with Rey, about the Force of all things.  And then Rey sticking up for her, the person she had literally just met and had no idea…

“I’m not going to shoot you.”  He wasn’t sure why he felt he needed to reiterate that after they had left the infirmary and walked down the corridor.

“Where are we going?”

“To your ship.  I need you to leave, Euli.”  It wasn’t that the Resistance or even the General that needed her to leave, even if he thought it was in their best interests.  Poe needed her to leave.

She shook her head, but still walked with him.  Out through the hangar and across the tarmac.  “This reminds me of the time where you got it in your head that I had done this terrible thing—which I did—but you just up and decided I needed to leave.  Didn’t even ask me what I thought of it.  Because you’re Commander Poe kriffing Dameron and damned if you need to explain anything at all.”

He ignored her as the ramp lowered and he went inside, making his way to the cockpit.  He stood over the navicomputer, scrolling through its history and making sure certain entries were not in the database.  She was hovering behind him, making sure all of her irritations and grievances were heard.  On and on that if he would _just listen_.  Finally, he snapped.  “You told Kylo Ren that Beebee-ate had that map!  You told him he was on Jakku and that our base was here!”

Euli’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm.  Her fingers dug in and she forcibly turned him around.  “I did no such thing!  I had no idea Beebee-ate was even with you!”

But Poe had been there, watched the words tumble right out of her mouth as he begged her to just fucking _shut up_.  Days later, his throat still felt raw from the screaming, his head still ached from the trenches carved through his mind.  Boney little fingers digging in and taking what they wanted.  As he looked at her, and her pleading eyes still red from crying and threatening to do so again, part of him wanted to believe her.  He didn’t want to think so horribly about her, but the image was always in his mind.  The memories were seared into his consciousness.  He couldn’t let himself trust her.

 “Please, Poe, you have to believe me.  What he did… I don’t even know what he did.”  Her hand moved across his chest just above his heart.  The other still grasped around his arm, not daring to let go.  She pressed her hand into his chest, trying to feel his heart beating behind his thick uniform.  “You’re alive and I don’t even know it.  You’re standing right here in front of me and… it may as well be an empty space.  I can’t _feel_ you.  At all.”

The pleasant memories of her hands on him were battling against the memories of her ripping the secrets from his mind.  What she was saying, in a way, almost made sense.  Poe existed in the Force the way all beings did.  He didn’t interact with it; it didn’t call to him or influence his thought processes.  He believed in it and at times he felt its presence.  Around certain individuals he had felt something that could only be described as the Force.  What he had with Euli, it was intense and life-affirming, and suddenly noticeably absent.

He reached for her hand on his chest to pull it away, his fingers wrapping around hers.  He held it for just a moment, the familiar chill in her fingers, the small scars on her knuckles, the callous just under her middle finger that he knew was from the way she had held a flight stick.  He knew her hands, knew her face, knew other parts of her body, but he didn’t know _her_.  He told himself he did, believed it, but had barely known the whole, completed person.  There had hardly been time, and even then, he had been away for most of it.  She had stopped breathing, just watched him with those sad eyes, begging him to believe her.

Poe pressed his lips to hers roughly without even thinking about it.  It was a question he needed to ask, but one without words.  One he wasn’t sure what answer he was even looking for.  She gasped in surprise, breathing in the air from his mouth as he forced her mouth open, tongue pushing past teeth as his body pressed her against the wall of the small cockpit.  He released the grip on her fingers and rested it on her hip, feeling the curve of it like so many times before.  Her grip on his arm relaxed and her hand moved upwards, burying in his hair, tugging slightly.  His fingers had worked up underneath the hem of her shirt, squeezing the soft bit of flesh he found.

He was trying to ask a question, one he didn’t understand.  Euli had no idea what he was doing, so she took every invitation to taste, to touch—to go back to how things had been.  She was welcoming and eager with her lips and the rest of her.  She pressed against him even as he was pushing her back.  She kept the one hand gripped in his hair, while the other had snapped apart the buckle around his uniform tunic and began pushing the fabric away.  That wasn’t…

With a strangled groan, Poe pulled his face back from hers.  The hand that was gripping her waist moved to stop her work at his clothing.  For a moment, he felt like he was going to fall over, as if every bit of energy had just been sucked away from him.

“If it was thirty years ago, and you had to make the choice.  Me or Base One, or Echo Base, or any of them, what would it be?  If they had the screws to you and they were gonna kill me right there if you didn’t spill all the rebel secrets, what would you do?”  He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, still trying to steady himself and regain his wits.

“Poe…”

“ _Tell me._ ”  He looked at her then, hard, demanding.

“I joined the Rebellion out of hate.  I didn’t care about the politics until much, _much_ later.  If I had loved you the way I love you now in a time when all I could do was hate, I would have been a terrible rebel.  I would have run away with you.  I never would have let anyone take you from me.”

His hands pulled away from her, wiping across his face and over his mouth as if trying to get her off of him.  He didn’t know what answer he wanted, but that was not anything close to what he thought he needed.  He turned his back to her, returning to what he was working on at the console.

“I know it’s not the same for you,”  she said quietly.  “I know you would always choose the Resistance.  I don’t fault you for it.  It’s part of who you are, and I love every part of you, Poe.”

He couldn’t help the little scoff of air that escaped, but he didn’t turn to face her.  “So he was torturing me, threatening to kill me, and you sang like a fucking bird.  Which is it, Euli?”

“ _I didn’t_.  That’s not what happened!”

Poe finished at the console and pushed past her to leave the cockpit.  “Come on, En-one, back to your day job.”

“You’re taking my droid?!”

“It’s time for you to go, Euli.”

She had followed him to the hatch, her fists clenched at her side as she watched the astromech roll down the ramp.  “Where am I supposed to go, Poe?!”

“I don’t care.”

A lie.  But he couldn’t afford her anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _love_ this chapter and I hope you do, too!


	12. Flight of the Resistance

**D'Qar // Brentaal Station**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

Admiral Statura handled the majority of the logistical monster that was organizing the evacuation of D’Qar.  They had to take everything they could on a fleet that suddenly felt far too small for the tasks ahead.  The Resistance had been a ragtag bunch before—dated cruisers, frigates, and fighters, leftovers from the disarmament.  Now, they felt like a last stand, somehow even thinner than what was left of the Alliance at Endor.

Leia nodded, acknowledging what the Admiral was saying, though she had stopped listening to every detail.  She had tried to put them—Han and Ben, her small, broken family—out of her mind; she could find time to grieve later.  But Major Brance had brought up crate dimensions, and how to fit two squadrons of fighters into a cruiser’s hangar, and for a second, Leia slipped away.  Her last words to Han had been about their son.  Her heart couldn’t comprehend what had happened; her head didn’t want to.

“I can take half a squadron and scout out some of these locations,”  Commander Dameron interjected.  Leia hadn’t even seen him walk down into the command center.  He looked tired and Leia wondered if he’d slept at all since the battle.  That had been nearly a day, surely he had.  “General?”

Leia blinked and glanced down at the list of planets that had come up on the projector.  At one time, they had all been decent locations for prospective bases.  Each just out of the way, but close enough to well-traveled hyperspace routes to be accessible.  All were uninhabited—they wouldn’t want to bring the taint of war to a system that hadn’t asked for it.  None of these were options anymore and it tore at Leia’s heart as to the reason why.

“I think we’ll have to do it the old fashioned way,”  she said after a quiet moment.  “We take the fleet and try to find what’s left of the Republic.  We know they had outposts throughout the Mid Rim and patrols on most trade routes.  Commander, I doubt they’ve changed tour locations much since your…. sabbatical.”

That’s what they had called it: undetermined leave of absence from the Republic Navy.  It was obvious to anyone close to him that the leave was permanent.  And even if it hadn’t been before, it certainly was now.

“Repetitive jumps are going to eat fuel, General.  And not having a central location is going to make it harder to respond—“

Leia held up her hand, just enough so the signal was obvious.  She glanced briefly towards the other gathered officers and they understood her wishes instantly.  With a nod of their heads, they left to attend to other matters.

She took a small breath as she leaned up against the console.  An un-princess like pose, but she had long since stopped caring about such appearances.  And she was tired—not just her body from the stress of nearly getting blown up, again, but there was a weariness in her soul.  To fight the same fight against darkness, this time against her son.  “Any locations we had before you went to Jakku are no longer secure.  You understand that, don’t you?”  How could he not?

Poe frowned.  She watched a muscle in his jaw work slightly as if he was chewing on an answer.  He looked as if he wanted to tell her something.  She could feel that he was holding something back, but the thought jerked out of the front of his consciousness and he nodded.  “I’m sorry, General.  I failed you.”

“No, no, how could you think that?”

Poe’s father had contacted her after Poe had escaped, after he had to nurse his son back from the brink of death.  He was livid, and rightly so.

Leia had called Kes Dameron years ago, before the events of the _Yissira Zyde_.  She saw the potential in Shara’s son, everyone did.  Perhaps it had been dishonest, the way she’d called his father and asked after him.  Asked how he had enjoyed his duties with the Republic, if he found satisfaction in what he was doing.  When he’d gone after the stolen ship, tracked a First Order Star Destroyer and a wing of TIEs all on his own, Leia knew she had to have him.  The Resistance needed that dedication, that cunning—all of the traits Leia knew from his mother.  If he was half the pilot and person she was, the First Order could never prepare enough for what was coming.

So when Kes contacted her, he laid out all of his injuries.  Everything Poe had gone through _for her_.  His boy had been tortured.  His skin cut and bruised.  His bones broken.  Poison in his veins.  Something had happened to his mind, Kes had told her.  He woke up screaming, begging for it to stop, for the fingers to get out of his head.  To stop, please stop.

Poe didn’t answer her stunned question, just stood there like the good soldier he sometimes was, waiting for her orders.  He was ready to go at a moment’s notice.  Leia figured he would do anything, keep his focus anywhere, to not dwell on what had happened.  “I saw that Ms. Avedis arrived back at the base, but then she left after only a few hours.  Is there something I should be aware of?”

Her first guess was that Euli had set off again, either chasing rumors or tracking down leads.  Whether it was for something in her past, or another matter on behalf of the Resistance, Leia had stopped asking.  But Poe’s face shifted from the set frown to more of an angry scowl.  That was not the reaction she had expected.  He chewed on his answer again for nearly a full minute before she pressed him again, more firmly this time.  “Poe, we don’t have time.  If you’re going to tell me something, spit it out.”

“She was… part of my thoughts when I was being questioned by Kylo Ren—“

Leia tried not to gasp or shudder as he spoke the name her son had chosen for himself.

“He said he could find her in the Force; that she stuck out.  We decided—“

Leia shifted, no longer leaning on the console, but stood back up straight.  Her brow lifted slightly at him, because she could tell that he wasn’t giving her the entire truth.  He was leaving things out, changing minute details.  Why?

“—it’s not safe for the Resistance for her to be here.”

“Poe, that’s not really how it works.”  Because if it were so easy, she would have found Luke already.  If it were that easy, Ben would have found them time and again because so often she had tried to reach out to him.  To remind him he was loved and he belonged at home.  She reached out and put a hand on his arm, squeezing just slightly.  “You two were good for each other.  In times like this, we have to hold onto those that are important to us.”

He stiffened at the contact.  “I’m not willing to take the chance and put the fleet at risk.”

“Son—“

“I’m not your son,”  he said sharply.  Words with a razor point and venom.  Leia pulled her hand away and wondered if he knew.  She wondered if he understood that the boy he had met as a child once or twice had grown up to be the man that tortured him.  That she had birthed and raised such a man.  “General.”  The way he said her title was softer than his previous words, perhaps added as an afterthought, as an apology.

“We have three days to clear out of here.  Try to make contact with some Republic outposts and determine our first few jumps.  And make sure the _Falcon_ has our new encryption keys so she can contact us.”  The orders were practically robotic.  A bullet point list of tasks.

“Yes, General.”  He said nothing else, just turned and left.

 

~*~

 

“They put him into this pod-thing,”  Rey said as Poe stepped next to her in the infirmary.  She was a statue of resolve, ready to take on the galaxy if necessary.  One look in her eyes though, Poe could tell she was anxious.  Perhaps nervous about the journey ahead, but likely more concerned for Finn.  “They let me say goodbye first.”

Poe glanced across the practically cleared out infirmary.  It felt like a set for a holo-vid.  An empty space pretending to be a clinic, with some of the props, but still hollow.  He reached over and gave Rey’s shoulder a squeeze before stepping towards the white pod that now held their friend.  Poe thought it reminded him too much of a coffin, but there were lights all along the side and text flashing across the window on top declaring that Finn was, in fact, alive.

“Headed back out?”  Rey asked after a moment of letting him watch Finn in silence.

Poe hooked his thumbs into the black-grey belt around his waist and nodded.  “Yeah, I’m gonna fly Finn up to Ackbar’s cruiser and then take half a squadron out to try and find some friends.  Republic troops that were away from the Hosnian system, that sort of thing.  This place should be all cleared out by tomorrow.”

“You’ll let me know if anything happens?  When he wakes up…”

Poe nodded again, and reached out to clasp her once more on the shoulder.  “He’ll be fine, Rey.  We probably won’t have a main base for awhile, but I updated the _Falcon’s_ comm system with our new codes.  HoloNet is a mess right now, so if you don’t get through right away, don’t get discouraged.”

Her fingers reached out and ran across the clear part of the tube, just over Finn’s face.  She took a steadying breath and nodded.  “I should go.  General Organa wanted to see me before I left.  Take care of yourself, Poe.”

Poe thought about it before he said it.  There had been a crisis of faith in him, because while the Jedi and all “official” knowledge of the Force had been practically wiped from the galaxy, the Rebellion had kept it alive.  People like his parents and the other more distinguished members of the Resistance and the Republic had kept telling the stories of the Jedi, about the goodness of the Light.  They had been his childhood nursery rhymes, the parables trying to teach a rambunctious boy to be mindful.  He thought he understood light and darkness, thought he knew what it meant for there to be balance.  The two were so warped in his mind and lately, there was so much darkness.  It was hard to find the light.

“Hey, Rey.”  She paused and turned at his call, just before reaching the door.  There was a slight hesitation in his voice as he said it, but it was what he had always believed.  What his parents and his grandfather had taught him.  What he remembered as a boy.  “May the Force be with you.”

For a moment, he thought she looked as uncomfortable hearing those words as he had felt saying them.

Poe took all of the missions.  There were near two full squadrons of fighters, patrol boats, and freighters tasked with scout and recovery missions, but Poe Dameron had a hand in everything.  He was with the fleet only long enough to resupply and swap out his team before picking up the next assignment and going back out.

There was one other thing he did see to whenever _Black One_ berthed on Admiral Ackbar’s cruiser.  He carved out a chunk of time to rush down to the infirmary and check on their now famous patient.  The cruiser’s infirmary was large and white with seamless curved finishings.  Much brighter and more modern than the underground stone bunkers they had on D’Qar.  Poe found it too sterile, but then it was supposed to be that way.

“Impeccable timing, Commander,”  the voice of Dr. Kalonia called from across the room.  She was often a rather serious woman, but there was an amusement in her tone.  When she moved, Poe could see the patient she was attending to, leaning against a white table like he was still trying to get used to having his legs under him.

“Poe?”  Finn croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse, but a grin cracked over his face.

“Finn!”  Poe rushed over and nearly threw his arms around the other man, but stopped himself, unsure if any of Finn’s injuries were still bothering him.

Finn just chuckled and clapped a hand on Poe’s shoulder.  “I’m good,”  he answered the unasked question.  His laugh fell away though and the look he gave Poe was one of concern with just a touch of fear.  “Where’s Rey?  Is she okay?  They’re not really giving me a lot of information here.”

“I wanted Finn to get up and walking around a bit before we barged in on the General.”  Dr. Kalonia gave Finn a stern look before she turned and started to walk away.  “Make sure you weren’t going to fall on your face right in front of her.”

Poe grinned and nodded, his hands coming to rest on his hips.  “Rey’s fine.  She wanted to be here.”

“She left?”  His features drooped in sadness and confusion.  “How long?”

“Couple weeks.  Finn,”  Poe said, looking straight into his friend’s eyes.  What Rey had to do, it was bigger than either of them.  Despite whatever else the pair of them had going on, it was going to have to wait.  “She wanted to be here, but we all have a part to play in this.”

Finn sighed.  “What happened, man?  How’d we even get off that planet?”

Poe was about to answer when the sound of metal rolling against metal along with several excited beeps came up behind him.  BB-8 was obviously overjoyed to see that Finn was awake.  Poe had to push slightly on the droid’s dome to get him to calm down.

With a chuckle, Poe partially translated.  “He’s pretty excited to see you up.  He hasn’t stopped going on about you and Rey and how you two got him off Jakku.  Thanks again, really.  What you guys did, it was incredible.”

Finn, finally cracking the wide grin Poe remembered, glanced between Poe and BB-8 and just shrugged, as if it was nothing.  “Anyone would have done it.  We just happened to be there.”

Poe thought for a second, then shook his head.  A serious expression crossed his features again, touched with something a bit sadder.  “Maybe, but you guys did, and that’s what matters.”

They talked as much as they could in the few minutes Poe was squeezing in before rushing back to the hangar.  Much of the conversation was about Rey and how she had left to find Luke Skywalker.  Poe assured Finn that they had a way to get in touch if she needed them, or they needed her.  Poe told him the story of how she’d faced Kylo Ren in the snow as well as he could based on what Rey had told him.  She hadn’t been exactly forthcoming with all of the details, but it was enough to paint a picture.  Despite his usual propensity to indulge in the telling, Poe kept any tales he told of Rey and what had happened to the facts as he understood them.  The story he told about flying into Starkiller Base itself however, that was told with just as much gusto as any a Dameron tale of flying and fighting.

“ _Inside of it?_ ”  Finn laughed and ran a hand over his hair, scratching at the back of his head.  “Forget anything I did, now _that’s_ incredible.”

Finn had more questions, about the First Order and what the Resistance planned to do, but the comm on Poe’s wrist beeped.  BB-8 also suddenly seemed to remember that they were now long overdue to set out again.  There was a fresh group of pilots waiting for him and missions that needed to be completed.  “I’ll be back in two days, and I’ll answer any question you have.”

He must have not been hiding the tension as well as he thought, because Finn asked,  “Is it bad?”

“Well, it’s not great.  The good news is it’s pretty terrible for them, too.  The whole galaxy is destabilized and everyone’s fighting over scraps.”  Poe reached out and clasped Finn on the shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze.  “I’ll tell you everything when I get back.  Just focus on getting back on your feet.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, Commander,”  Dr. Kalonia called as Poe turned and headed out of the infirmary.  It wasn’t exactly goading, but then it wasn’t altogether a kind reminder either.

“I’ll be fine, Doc.  Hey,”  Poe turned slightly and pointed back towards Finn.  “I’ll tell one of my guys to bring you some clothes.  I think I’ve got an extra jacket.”

 

~*~

 

Euli didn’t know how to ration.  It was a concept that made sense to her in a theoretical sort of way, but it was something she personally had never really worried about.  With the Fleet, the Quartermaster, or whoever was in charge of the mess, would ensure there was enough to last and that everyone was fed.  Even when she was out on her own before, she always had her sister’s money to fall back on.  When she was sitting on her ship, freshly stocked with supplies and food readily at hand, rationing wasn’t something she thought of.  Weeks removed from D’Qar however, and she wished she had at least given it a passing thought.  She wasn’t yet at the point of there being a problem, but she would have to figure something out soon.

After leaving D’Qar, she had been devastated.  To think that Poe truly thought she was capable of hurting him in such a way?  It was a spike in her heart.  What had happened to him, it was beyond just a physical assault.  Something had happened to _him_ —in his mind, in the Force.  She felt sorry for him, mourned him, and then she was just angry.  Even if he believed the lies, how could he just kick her to the side with barely scraps?  The _Aldera’s Song_ was a hobbled old freighter without a droid to help navigate or keep up the maintenance.  She had no identity, no credits, and the only people she knew were back with the Resistance.

For so long Poe had been her anchor, the thing that kept her planted in the galaxy.  Her parents would have told her not to be so foolish as to give one person so much influence over her life.  She knew they would have been right, but knowing that didn’t change how she felt.

On Brentaal Station, which her memory told her was supposed to be a bustling trade hub, she found a mass of broken people.  It seemed any bonds of kinship formed under the Republic were quickly broken.  The station had once been under the control of a regional governor, though from what she had been able to gather, it stank more of a corrupt oligarch.  Since the destruction of the Capital, rival gangs had started fighting over control of the station.  Instead of the thriving trade route crossroad, it resembled more of a refugee camp stuck in the middle of a border conflict.

Euli made a few credits selling off things from the ship: extra parts she didn’t think she’d need, a spare welder, and other bits she wasn’t even sure what they were.  It was so unbelievably pathetic, but she wasn’t in a position to turn her nose up at a bad deal, or force her will on others.  She thought about trying to find work.  Her skill set included piloting and she had a freighter—perhaps a transport job or something.  But cartels had started to form, and unless she was willing to throw herself in with one of the emerging factions, she was boxed out.  Someone had propositioned a different sort of job for her; she had promptly broken their nose.  Euli hadn’t slipped that far down into desperation.

“Why are you even trying?”  she muttered to herself one day as she stood in the midst of the crush of people moving around her.  “What’s the kriffing point!”  She had shouted it and several bodies paused their predictable movements to stop and look at her.  Euli never saw them.  It was just a mass of hovering little lights constantly in her way—stifling and overwhelming.

It wasn’t hard to find once she decided what she wanted.  She was observant and clever enough to know where to look.

“I need death sticks.”

The man in the mismatched armor with the patch of one of the local gangs on his breast smirked down at her and nodded.  She had sold some extra parts to the shop in the next alley that was run by the same gang.  Perhaps he recognized her, or maybe he didn’t; Euli didn’t care one way or the other.

“You got the credits, sister?”

Euli held out her palm holding the stick with the last bit of her liquid wealth.  She snatched her hand back and gave him a hard look before he could take it.  “Show me you got it.”

_Death sticks will weaken your connection to the Force._

“They can also kill you, but yeah, let’s worry about the Force.”  Euli scowled as she grumbled back at the sad-sounding voice in her head.

“Huh?”  The dealer stared at her as he looked up from digging in the crate he had been leaning on.

“Do you want these credits or not?”  she snapped at him.  She took what the last of her credits had bought and walked away.

She was back on her ship the first time her teeth tore through the plastic shell.  She chewed on the plastic bits for a moment, sucking out every drop of the sickly sweet concoction.  When all that was left was the aftertaste on her tongue, she spat out the used shell into the waste bin next to the sink in the refresher.  Euli gripped the sides of the metal sink and stared into the mirror in front of her.  She was frowning and her eyes were boring into her own reflection, daring the voice from beyond to say something.  But there was only silence.

For a second, there was a flash of regret.  A moment where she questioned if this was really the choice she wanted to make.  She nearly apologized, but then she smiled.  Laughed.  Giggled, really.  She fell to the ground in a fit of laughter, completely off-balance.

The elation lasted over an hour.  Despite that later she would realize the fakeness of it, the chemicals that had tricked her mind into the release of endorphins, it was the happiest she had been, could ever remember being.  She saw the lure of it.  What let people throw their lives away for just one more taste.  The real high for Euli came after.

There was always the constant noise of the docks: ships going in and out, equipment moving, people yelling and chattering, droids beeping.  For Euli, it was nearly silent.  The hum that had constantly surrounded her was gone.  The little floating lights had all gone out.  She nearly tripped over her feet walking down the ramp out of the ship.  She still had that off-balance feeling, as if she had lost both her hearing and her sight and her spatial awareness.

A dock worker paused to look at her and she watched him back.  She tried to press out towards him, search him in the way that would tell her something intimate about him.  How he existed beyond this physical body.  But he was just a dirty human in a filthy blue jumpsuit with a patch of a tibanna transport company.

“Shove off, slaghead,”  she snapped at him.

He huffed and swore back at her in some Hutt-derivative language and stalked off.

As he walked away, she stared down at her hands.  She remembered the strands of string that had been wound so tightly like a shell around her.  It was gone.  It was all gone.  It was bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My spelling and grammar beta has been hit with with real life so I apologize if the grammar takes a nose dive for the rest of the story.


	13. Death Sticks and Tricks

**Brentaal Station // Resistance Fleet**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

While the euphoric high lasted for an hour or so, the delicious void stretched out over several days.  Euli spent most of the time finding the sleep that had so long evaded her, only rarely being jolted awake by nightmares.

The death sticks however, didn’t take away everything.  She was still left to contend with the dwindling supplies and the isolation.  While the void hid the threads that had been severed, the pieces of her emotions that had nothing to do with the Force remembered what had been lost.  It was all muted in the background, but she still missed Poe, always feared for his safety, and fumed over his decisions.

As the weeks dragged on and the effects of the drug became shorter and shorter, Euli tried to stretch out what she had left.  The need was outstripping her ability to pay.  Some days, she would dig the plastic casings out of the trash and suck on them, hoping to find a few drops stuck in the grooves where her teeth had bitten in.  The self-loathing and regret crept back in along with the terrified whispers of what this decision had truly cost her.

Often she found herself standing in the crush of the main concourse of the station, trying to remember what people felt like.  She didn’t want to feel them, didn’t want to know them.  But sometimes she thought about Skywalker and the Princess and Poe and how they had all glowed, so bright and unique.  If that luminosity was Life, was she dead?

The mass of bodies were easy to ignore as they jostled her from side to side.  They were all just husks moving around.  She didn’t even feel like shoving back.  Hands grabbed her from either side and it took her a moment to realize they were all clad in white.  Euli didn’t remember if she struggled as they pulled her to some generic, unlabelled office.  In fact, she couldn’t even recall if the First Order was trying to establish a presence on Brentaal.  She would have heard of that, maybe, but she doubted it would have mattered much to her.  With the collapse of the Republic, they could be anywhere.  Pretty soon, they’d likely be everywhere.

“Are you high right now?”

Euli lifted her head off the metal table of the small, mostly empty room they’d dumped her in.  The familiar honey-sweet voice of the Zeltron agent, Pascia U’Kari, was not what she had been expecting to hear.  Certainly, she did not expect to see the orange-skinned woman with her neatly pinned green hair wearing the drab grey uniform of the First Order.  “If I am, this is the worst high ever.”

Pascia put the precious few of little red and yellow plastic tubes on the table.  Euli watched as a few of them rolled away, though stopping before they reached the edge.  She didn’t look up when Pascia hissed over the table at her.  “Death sticks?  Are you mad?”

Her chin dipped down slowly towards her chest and then back up in a vague nodding motion.  This probably wasn’t even a real encounter.  Maybe she had been arrested, or whatever this was, but there was no way it could really be Pascia.  Of course, Euli didn’t remember seeing her at all on D’Qar.  Someone like her probably would take the monumental risk of infiltrating the First Order.  She was foolhardy that way—the whole bloody Resistance was.

“You shouldn’t be talking to me, unless you actually defected.  I already gave the First Order all the secrets anyway.”  Her words were tired and slow, disinterested in whatever farce this was.  There was a thrumming in the back of her skull, a chill settling into her bones as she eyed the teetering capsules.  She’d need another one soon.

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”  Pascia came around to the other side of the table and waved her hand in front of Euli’s face until she looked at her.  She leaned up against the table just next to Euli, her arms crossed delicately over her chest.  Pascia sighed, perhaps second-guessing whatever this little ambush had been for.  “I need you to deliver a message.”

Euli scoffed and looked away from Pascia.  “They don’t take my calls.  I don’t even know where they are.”

“Poe’s alive and well, last I heard.  He frustrates the hell out of our TIE fighter commanders.”

And just like that, her nice little bubble of apathy burst.  Euli twisted uncomfortably in the chair, her hands rubbing roughly across her face.  Pascia knew so well where to stick that knife; knew just how to twist it to get exactly the response she wanted.  Euli sniffed and looked back up at the spy.  “I’m sorry about Altus,”  she said, barely louder than a whisper, afraid her voice would break.  “I tried to get him to come with me.”

There was another long exhale and then a tentative hand rested on her shoulder.  “I’m sorry as well.”  Pascia stood, and as she did a small data chip, no larger than a thumbnail, fell through the space between them and landed in Euli’s lap.  She spoke quietly, “I don’t know what’s happening on the other side, but this is important.  I’m sure you can muscle your way past me.  Security is very light, just an advance scout team.  Get to your ship and go to those coordinates.”

Euli shifted in her seat again, her fingers grasping the tiny piece of circuitry before shoving her hands into her pockets.  “Sounds like a terrible plan.”

“I’ll be all right.  First Order needs all the officers it can get, even incompetent ones.”  Pascia pushed herself back to her feet and faced Euli.  Perhaps she expected the charade to begin, but it didn’t.  “Or you can just get transferred to one of our lovely resettlement camps.  And when they strip you of all your clothing and belongings before the sanitation process and find that little data chip, we can both be shot for treason.”

Euli couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  This woman, who had been on her case since the beginning, was trying to snatch her from her from her admittedly pathetic, but quiet, existence and thrust her at either the people who didn’t want her or a forced labor camp.  “You’re crazier than I am.”

“You can let the First Order get a leg up on a strategic advantage.”  She bent at the waist, leaning down until her face pushed right next to Euli’s.  “Or you do this.  For your Republic.  For your Princess.”

Euli shot out of the chair.  Their heads nearly connected before she whipped around.  Her fist snapped across Pascia’s jaw.  Maybe she expected it, or maybe she didn’t, but she fell to the floor all the same.  Euli gave her a swift kick to the stomach, likely unnecessary, but she was just so damn good at bludgeoning all the right buttons.  She reached over the table and swiped up all the necessary, colorful tubes and stuffed them into her pocket.  She bent down over Pascia’s prone form and yanked her blaster from its holster.

“I don’t have a Republic,”  she snarled next to the dazed woman’s ear.  “Or a Princess.”

Perhaps it was the adrenaline newly pumping through her body or the effects of the drug wearing thin, but her senses were coming back in waves.  There was a thread tied around her fingers, leading her onward.  These were the benefits to the constant awareness the Force brought.  Euli couldn’t deny the sense of warning that assisted in self-preservation or the snap to her reflexes—a useful tool when it wasn’t trying to ruin her.  She still hated it, though reluctantly accepted the assistance.

She could hear the clank of boots and the shuffling of armor.  A quick glance back and there was a six trooper squad, split into twos, making their way through the crowded station.

_Left here._

Euli scowled, but heeded the silent advice and ducked left between a pair of merchant carts and squeezed her way down the far corridor.

_Keep moving.  Stop!_

The threads around her fingers jerked her backwards and she pressed her body against the wall.  She wedged in between a cantina and where someone had decided to shove their tent and claimed the small alley as their home.  There was hardly enough space for her to fit, but she sucked in a large breath and held it.  The troopers passed.

_Make for the spaceport.  Run, Major!_

It was more dodging people and their belongings than avoiding the small squad of troopers on her way to the docks.  One glance at the blaster in her hands was enough to get most of the rabble out of her way.  Once on board, her fingers ran across the controls of the freighter quickly.  It was a cold start and it was all she could do to keep all her digits steady until the engines finally kicked on.

“We need to plot—“  Her words stopped short and she turned her head back towards the screen in front of her.  There was no one else here.  No one that could help, anyway.

“Okay, okay.”  Her thoughts zipped through the chances she could take.  “I’ll just micro-jump far enough away and then plot out the rest.”

The comm button was blinking.  She assumed it was the station ordering her to return to the dock, but her fist slammed against it and she ignored them.  The lumbering craft weaved around traffic, forcing the other pilots to give her room to pull out of the station.

Perhaps Pascia had sent them the wrong way, or maybe the Force had finally come back around to her.  She made it out of the docking port unmolested and slipped easily into hyperspace.  Less than an hour later she was out, downloaded the data into the computer, and was gone again.

 

~*~

 

With the weeks of training and therapy and encouragement from his host of new compatriots, Finn grew stronger.  Poe introduced him to his squadmates, technicians, ground pounders, command staff—anyone they came across met “Finn, the guy who saved my life.”  They had a long conversation about what Finn’s plans were as far as fighting with the Resistance.  Poe was reminded that Finn was the one who had taken up the lightsaber against Kylo Ren.  He was in this until the end.  Poe had grinned and slapped him on the shoulder and then set off in his X-Wing again.

Once, when Poe was around for more than just a few hours, he tried to get Finn into the cockpit of the favored fighter.  Someone had once told him he was a good teacher, and piloting was a useful skill for anyone.  Finn decided rather quickly he preferred to be on the ground.  He had picked up the basics, but being inside a fighter was a little too familiar to that cramped cockpit hurtling towards the sands of Jakku.  Poe just cocked an eyebrow at him and grinned, telling him he’d find his wings soon enough.

Finn commented that he wouldn’t need it with how much Poe flew.  Black Leader flew enough for everyone.  Every mission, recon, supplies, reaching out to potential allies, or just chasing down rumors—Poe had a hand in it.  Everyone could see he was running himself ragged, but Poe was very good at playing off their concern and insisted he was fine.

He bounced back and forth between the vessels of the fleet—training pilots, coordinating missions, and even overseeing maintenance.  When he saw Dr. Kalonia, she shot him full of vitamins and sometimes stims, and scolded him for not taking better care of himself.  If he encountered Rison Denn, the Zabrak physician told him to save them all the trouble and just crawl in a hole and die.  Poe wasn’t sure if the doc was commenting on Poe’s sometimes abrasive attitude, or the bitterness he still seemed to hold onto over Euli’s sudden departure.  Despite that, Poe would find extra bacta patches tucked into the cargo hatch of _Black One._   He insisted to both that he was fine, just some stiff muscles from time to time—usual wear and tear.  All the cuts and bruises had healed nicely, no permanent damage.  At least physically.

Poe didn’t talk about the other injuries he’d received from the First Order, at the hands of Kylo Ren.

General Organa had once insisted he take a day off and they had a loud discussion about it.  In the end, Poe had spent the day catching up on briefings, meeting with some new recruits, and giving BB-8 an overdue tune up.  He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop.

“Do you sleep at all?”  Finn asked one day in the training room.  They’d often spar; Finn joked he felt bad for the punching bag Poe always laid into when he was back with the fleet.  Finn was a skilled fighter as well, nimble and quick, with even a bit of bravado, which Poe always appreciated.  Despite his eventual defection, he had been a star trooper, excelling in everything stormtroopers were taught, except apparently murdering civilians.

“What else is there to do in hyperspace?”

“I mean in a bed.”  Poe had him grappled, but Finn hooked his foot around to trap Poe’s leg.  Before his opponent knew it, the pilot was flipped and pinned on the ground.  Finn chuckled and plucked a hair off of Poe’s head.  “Is that a grey hair?  You’re getting old before my eyes, Dameron.”

Poe grunted and shoved him off.  “I’m fighting a war here, man.  Isn’t a lot of time to take a spa day.”

“From what I hear, you’re fighting it on your own most of the time.”  Finn got to his feet and offered Poe a hand up.  For a second, Poe considered not taking it and just laying like an obstinate child on the floor.  Maybe he’d sweep Finn’s leg out from under him and put him back on the mat.  “We’re gonna win, we just have to do it together.”

Poe let out a short huff of air and decided against it.  He grabbed hold of the offered hand, letting Finn pull him up to his feet.  “Where’s this coming from?  Not from you.”

Finn sighed, the corners of his lips drooping as he considered his answer.  “They’re just worried about you.  You take everything on, don’t let anyone help.  And you act like nothing bothers you.”

“Who?  Snap?  Bastian?”

“Man, _everyone._ ”

Poe just snorted and walked to the side of the mat to pick up his towel.  “Obviously everyone doesn’t have enough to do if they’re gonna stand around and gossip.”

BB-8 interrupted, rolling in and beeping, stopping just short of running into Poe’s legs.  The little droid was particularly terse with his blips and whirs.

Poe wiped his face and his neck with the towel as he listened to the droid.  He sighed and shook his head at the report he was given.  “You’re just now telling me?”

There was an indignant sort of beep in response.  BB-8 relayed that it was added to the mission board only that morning.

“Why haven’t I heard anything about this?”

Before the droid could respond, Finn asked,  “What’s going on?”

“One of our spies has some intel, but the General already sent Pava and Bastian after it.”  In frustration, Poe tossed the towel to the ground.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his Lieutenants to handle the mission well, but that he hadn’t been told.  He hadn’t been told because he would have gone himself even though he had just gotten back.  A part of him couldn’t help but feel that they were all going behind his back on this.

Finn slapped him on the shoulder and pulled him out of the ridiculous and rather paranoid thought.  “You know what that means right?  Free day!”  Finn gave him a large grin.  “I hear Red Squadron teamed up with maintenance to perfect their jet juice.”

Poe glanced down at BB-8 who also seemed intrigued at the idea of not having anything pressing to attend to.  However, not having a mission to fly didn’t mean he didn’t have tasks that needed to be completed.  He also needed to make sure he was on hand when that intel came in.  “I’m gonna hit the ‘fresher,”  he told Finn.  “I’ll catch up with you.”

 

~*~

           

Euli nearly froze on the walk between the freighter and the hatch to the bunker.  Jess met her upon landing with an extra parka and a large, smug smile.  Even with piling nearly all of her clothes onto her body, plus the coat and scarves Jess gave her, Euli swore she was just a degree or two away from once again becoming a “popsicle.”  The ships, the _Aldera’s Song_ and a pair of X-Wings, were parked a couple hundred meters away from the tiny out-house looking structure poking out of the snow.  Apparently, the equipment often got lost in the snow drifts and they didn’t want to land on any of it.  Inside the narrow little hut was a hatch in the ground leading down into a small, four-room bunker, several meters under the surface of this remote moon.

There was a nervous thumping in her chest at the thought of who had piloted the second fighter.  “Who is here with you?”  Euli asked as she unwrapped herself from some of the layers, though underneath felt barely warmer than the surface.

“There she is!”

Euli let out a small sigh of relief when Bastian stood up from the computer console and walked over to wrap her into a tight hug.

“You were right, Pava,”  Bastian said with a chuckle.  “She does look surprised to see us.”

Euli smiled slightly and nodded, though she felt she shouldn’t really have been all that surprised.  “What is all this?”  She looked around the space with its computer terminals and mismatched and worn looking furniture.  There was a central heating stove with a few unlit warming bricks resting inside of it—a source of extra heat, or maybe the backup should the main power go out.  That was a rather frightening thought.  There were a few doors that led to other parts of the bunker; she assumed supplies, quarters, and a refresher.

“This was a Seperatist listening post,”  Jess answered.  “U’Kari found it in an Imperial archive and got us the intel a few weeks ago.”

“I hope she deleted it after she found it,”  Euli muttered as she walked around the cramped space.  Small kitchenette, probably only stocked with rations.  She thought about resting on the couch, but it looked as if the cushions would swallow her if she attempted to sit on it.

Bastian chuckled and assured her that it was taken care of.  “We lost a lot of the HoloNet when the Hosnian system was destroyed.”

“The First Order is going after it hard,”  Jess interjected.  She waved Euli over to the main console, the newest looking thing in the bunker.  “We’re using this place to route secure comm traffic, as well as keep tabs on the First Order.”

There was a quiet moment as Euli continued the slow trek around the bunker.  She poked her head into the supply closet and then the bunk room.  There were two cots pushed against the walls in the narrow space, and neither looked like they’d seen much use.

“You want me to man this little station?”  she asked after a moment, but then shook her head.  “I’m just making a delivery.”

“You wanted to help the Resistance,”  Bastian offered.  His words were quiet, but they were earnest; hopeful that she would—what?  Come back to the team?  Euli wondered if they just wanted to keep tabs on her.  She hadn’t been that hard to find, now that she thought about it.

“I want to stop the First Order, yes.”  That was, of course, what she wanted in the mildest of terms.  She looked at Bastian, because he had been there when Poe had vehemently ordered her off D’Qar.  “Poe doesn’t know I’m out here, does he?  I won’t go behind his back like this.”

Jess and Bastian both frowned at the statement and shared a glance.  Euli wondered what Poe had told them, if anything.  Surely, if they knew how he blamed her, no longer trusted her, they never would have covertly recruited her and stuck her out in the middle of nowhere.

“The General trusts you, Euli,”  Bastian told her.  The knowledge that the order had come from on high caused Euli to swallow back the objections she had.  “Whatever happened, it’s between you two.  The Resistance comes first, right?  And we need someone out here.”

“Bastian or I will be by every couple of weeks to bring supplies and pick up the data.”

Another quiet moment passed as Euli considered the options in front of her.  They were all terrible, but this was, by far, the best.  Slowly, she nodded, accepting what was being offered.  Then, asked quietly, as if trying to pretend she wasn’t desperate for any information,  “How is he?”

“You know Poe, working hard,”  Bastian grinned, trying to make light of the conversation.  “He’s better now that Finn’s awake.  Pair of them are damn near inseparable.”

“Bastian’s a little jealous.”  Jess snickered as she punched her squadmate on the arm.

“Ha-ha.”  Bastian gave her a little push back and then walked over to Euli, draping his arm around her shoulders.  “Since Pava’s useless, let me give you the rundown.  Most importantly you have to make sure to prime the freighter’s engines daily so it doesn’t stall out in the cold.”

As the two pilots walked her through the protocols that had been set up, a younger part of her wanted to be indignant about the situation.  A part of her wanted to remind everyone that she was _Major_ Avedis and had fought _with distinction_ in several named battles.  That part wanted to scream that she should be on the front lines, a stick in her hands, her finger on the trigger, of every offensive to take down the First Order.  But there was also a tired old woman who kept that voice silent.  The exhausted, broken piece that was just thankful she wouldn’t starve.  She might freeze to death, but not starve.

Soon, Euli was alone.  The sound of the compressor pushing warm air through the bunker, the occasional beep from the computer consoles, and her own breathing overpowering the other faint noises were the only things that kept her company.  It was almost maddening.  It was never warm enough either, so she lit a heating brick in the stove and listened to it snap as it warmed and cooled; another sound joining the quiet chorus.  The highlight of her days was when she picked up a transmission, any transmission.  Most were from smugglers and free traders exchanging random bits of news.  Nothing too terribly interesting, but she would mark it down anyway.  Sometimes, she tried to imagine what was going on in the galaxy that she was now so far removed from, but her idle thoughts never went anywhere pleasant.  Once, she got a thrilling feeling in her stomach when a spice smuggler commented on avoiding a particular sector because of a battle.  When someone asked who won, Euli smiled when they said the Resistance.

_“I was on Sullust when the First Order tried to cut in.  Those X-Wings chased ‘em off good.  Oh man, that black one I saw, never seen flying like that.”_

For a second, her heart swelled, and then it cracked and she removed the earpiece, not listening to the rest of the conversation.  She sank into the ratty old couch under a thick blanket and tried to find sleep.

“If you tell me this is the will of the Force, I swear I will kill myself right here in this hole.  They will find my frozen corpse and I will leave a kriffing note stating: _‘The Force willed it.’_ ”

The little sprite of her conscience, who spoke with the voice of Pu’neet, the Force using girl she’d killed, remained silent.  As she had since leaving Brentaal Station.

True to her word, Jess was back in two weeks with supplies—food and spare parts.  She also brought datapads filled with distractions to stave off boredom for which Euli was thankful for beyond words.  Euli asked how the fight on Sullust went and how the fleet was faring.  Jess easily read what she was really asking.

 “Euli, I swear, if something happens to him, I will come here straight away and get you.  You’re making me nervous every time you ask that.  Like you know something bad’s going to happen.”

They had talked about the Force once.  Jess was constantly in awe of the Jedi, ever since she was a little girl.  Her parents had passed on the stories they remembered from their parents and she had admitted to Euli that she was quite jealous Euli had met Luke Skywalker.  But Euli was still wary of the Force and fell back into old habits of avoidance and disdain.  They didn’t talk about it past the one time.

And when she was alone, Euli pulled herself out of the Force for as long as she could.


	14. Dark Consequences

**Yavin IV**

**Approximately a Year After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

Sometimes there were pleasant dreams, instead of the nightmares.  He would hold her and whisper quietly of a better tomorrow.  Despite all that had happened, all that was coming, he would smile with the promise of hope.  And then she was awake, and he was gone.  Euli found those dreams even harder than the nightmares.

They had fallen into a routine at the Dameron homestead.  They had breakfast together in the morning, before Kes went out to check on the crops and the machinery.  Euli worked through balancing the business accounts and sorting out who had been promised what in terms of the harvest.  Tinor still came by a few times a week to help out, though his help mostly consisted of lying on the floor and being entertained by Nadja.

“Don’t you get enough with your own sisters?”  Euli asked him one day.

“They were fun when they were babies.  Now they’re just annoying.”

Euli huffed and reached down to scoop Nadja into her arms.  When she stood, she poked at Tinor with the toe of her boot.  “Go out and help Pop.  Earn those credits.  I’m going into town, should I pick up anything?”

The boy shrugged as he got to his feet.  “He was complaining about the compression release valves on the auto-harvester.  Just tell Qelyn at the supply shop.  She’ll know what you’re looking for.”

The Aqualish woman who ran the store did indeed know exactly what Euli was talking about when she stopped in.  Euli figured she knew every single piece of equipment every farmer in this community owned and which parts to keep in stock.

“There’s something else I’m looking for.”  Euli reached into her bag and pulled out a small datapad and handed it over to Qelyn.  A list of things she would need in order to alter Kes’ comm unit into something that could send and receive more secure transmissions.  As well as connect to the HoloNet anonymously.

Qelyn looked at the datapad and her face drooped slightly in what Euli assumed was a frown.  “Some of these things are hard to come by—even illegal under the Republic.”

Euli’s eyebrow quirked slightly.  “Well then I suppose it’s a good thing we don’t have one of those anymore.”

The droop of the Aqualish’s features fell even further as she handed the pad back.  “I can keep an eye out, but maybe ask Captain Aallo from Yavin Defense.”

It wasn’t the first time speaking with the YDF had been suggested to her.  Kes, who was kind enough to not question her paranoia, had discussed having a sit-down with Aallo.  He had hoped such a discussion would ease her worries, and if there were any information she could provide to assist in the defense of the moon, it would no doubt be appreciated.  The Captain was also a former schoolmate of Poe’s and would be sympathetic to her concerns.  But Euli didn’t want to drag the whole moon into her problems.  It was bad enough she had gotten Kes and Tinor’s family involved.

Euli glanced down at the infant in the pouch strapped to her front.  No, no one else needed to be involved.  “Maybe.  Thanks for your help.”

As she exited the shop, a cool wave hit her.  It wrapped around the part of her consciousness that she had tuned out.  The part of her that spoke without words and saw without eyes.  The part that for the past year had only existed in pain.  A dangerous, devastating piece of existence.  Her feet took the one, two, three steps in reverse, right back over the threshold and into the shop.

“Forget something?”

She fought to control her breathing, her heart rate—kept reminding herself not to panic.  Panic and they were dead.  Stay focused.  One obstacle at a time.  “You notice any strange folks in town recently?”

There was a chuckle and a shake of her grey head.  “Yavin’s gotten a bit of a rep for being safe from the First Order.  Lots of new people coming and going every day, trying to find a safe place to be.”

“Do you have another exit?”  She tried to keep her voice even and firm, hoping the woman couldn’t hear the tremor she knew was there.

Qelyn blinked her large eyes and nodded slowly.  “Back through the office, but it—hey!  You can’t just—!”

Euli scooted quickly through the cramped aisles made out of metal shelving with overflowing bins of parts.  She stepped over what looked like part of a speeder engine before pushing open the office door.  It was more pushing around crates and carefully maneuvering through stacked parts until she found the door leading out back.  The door opened to a dirt path covered with a cloth awning stretched across the close-together buildings.

“Shh,”  Euli hushed her girl quietly, though the child had barely made a noise.  She was more trying to calm her own racing thoughts, convince herself that they could get away.  “Make it home.  Then, the next problem.”

 

~*~

 

“Wonder who that is.”  Tinor pushed Kes on the shoulder lightly and gestured out to a fast-approaching speeder.

Kes glanced up from where he was rinsing off tools in the spigot on the front of the house.  He shrugged and handed another tool to Tinor to dry off.  “Stop fooling around with that ball.  I’m washing faster than you’re drying.”

Tinor kicked the ball he had been trying to balance on his foot off to the side and took the offered tools.  Kes went back to his task until Tinor started slapping at his arm.

“What?”  He was nearly at the end of his patience with the boy today.

“It’s, uh, Euli.  And she’s not driving your speeder, Pop.”

Kes turned and squinted out at the vehicle in confusion and disbelief.  “What the…”

The vehicle jerked to a stop.  She hurriedly got out of the seat—baby Nadja still strapped to her chest.  Well, that wasn’t safe.  She dragged a sack out behind her and rushed towards them.  Without a word on the different speeder, she stalked into the house leaving the two men to glance back and forth at each other.  Kes prodded Tinor to go check out the speeder, to see if he couldn’t figure out where it had come from—and what happened to his.  Euli reappeared a few minutes later without Nadja.  Instead, she was checking the charge pack on her white and black blaster.

“Euli?  What’s going on?”

“Someone’s here.  We need more weapons.  Quadnocs… you have any of those?”  She was trying to keep a firm hold on that blaster, but Kes could see the way it quaked slightly in her grip.

Kes moved to stand in front of her, cautiously reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder.  “Hey, kid.  What’s happening?  Whose speeder is that?”

Her eyes darted towards the road that led onto the property, watching it keenly, without blinking.  “I stole it.  I couldn’t chance going back to yours.”  She took a short breath, as if trying to steady herself.  “Someone’s here.  They were watching us in town.”

“Okay, okay.”  Kes patted her gently on the shoulder before pulling away.  “You keep watching.  I’ll make some calls.”

He chewed on the inside of his lip as he walked away towards Tinor and the speeder.  He glanced back at her a few times, but she had assumed the position of a trained sentry—and _that_ was what made Kes nervous.  Typically, he would get a heads up if any known bounty hunters or less than reputable types had found their way to Yavin.  Something felt a little off about this, but he couldn’t afford to take any chances.

“Boy, take this speeder back into town.  Find a constable and explain that Euli got mixed up, brought the wrong one back.  Then go home.  Don’t worry about mine.”

Tinor gave him a sideways glance.  No way he believed that Euli could have gotten mixed up about which speeder as they were quite different models, and colors.  “What about my bike?”

“I’ll bring it by tomorrow.”

“Pop—!”

Kes grabbed the boy’s arm a little harder than was necessary.  “Remember the last time I told you not to ask so many questions?”

Tinor nodded, the color draining from his face.  It had been when Poe had come home beaten all to hell.

“Just… do this, kid.”

“Yeah, Pop.  You want me to tell the constable to come down here?”

“No, I’m going to call the YDF right now.”  He wanted to add something else—tell the kid to be careful, not to stop for strangers, don’t try to be a hero.  His mouth even opened to start to say one of those things, but he closed it again and nodded instead.  No need to make him more anxious about the whole situation.  Tinor was a good kid, he’d be fine.

The call to the Yavin Defense Force yielded no answers.  Every ship that had arrived in the past few days was documented with nothing that would raise any concern.  Euli didn’t move.  Kes swore her arm had to be getting a cramp from gripping that blaster so tight.  He brought her a chair and the quadnocs and hoped she would relax a little.

“Did you see the person that was watching you?”  It had been over an hour and not even a stray animal had been seen on the road.  Kes was holding Nadja, playing with her tiny fingers as they tried to grab onto his beard.

It took Euli a minute before she answered, and she sounded unsure when she finally did.  “No.  I just… I just knew they were there.”

“And how do you know it was someone dangerous?  And not—“

“I know what I felt,”  she said sharply.

“Ah.”  Kes nodded and with a wince, he turned back towards the house.  Barely poking out from behind the corner, he could see the stretching branches of that slightly glowing tree with its large, green leaves.  The tree that Shara had rescued with Luke Skywalker so long ago stood proud and tall, calming and resilient.  He remembered the stories Shara had told about all of the amazing things Luke Skywalker could do.  Not just the lightsaber and a host of Jedi tricks, but how much of the Force was internalized.  Kes had never brought it up because Poe and Euli had never mentioned it, but he had seen them standing there, grasping that tree the day before they left.  They held on to it, and each other, like they were in some sort of trance. 

“I’ll start supper and if by the time I’m done nothing has happened, we’ll go inside, lock the doors, and try to relax.”

The only response was a grunt.  Maybe it was an agreement, but Kes didn’t think so.

Euli didn’t come in for dinner and opted to have Kes give Nadja some of the stored milk rather than feed her herself.  When it got dark, she turned on the nightvision on the quadnocs and paced the perimeter of the house.

“It’s amazing the pair of you even get along,”  Kes stated as he rocked in the chair on the porch, watching her as she made another circuit around the front.  “Stubborn as all hell, the both of you.”

Euli paused and turned towards him.  Her features were barely visible in the glow of the porch light, but she was frowning as she pulled the quadnocs down off her eyes.  Perhaps she had intended to say something, but she only stood there and watched him silently.  The longer the moment dragged out, the more unnerved Kes felt.

Eventually, her chest heaved and her shoulders drooped.  She pulled the goggles off her head and the blaster hung slack in her other hand for the first time since she’d picked it up hours ago.  She walked up the couple steps onto the porch and stopped in front of the door.  Again, she looked like she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how to get it out.

“Bad feeling gone?”  Kes offered.

“I was never very good at… this.”  The hand with the quadnocs waved vaguely, indicating, Kes assumed, the Force.  “Everything’s all muddled and Poe didn’t want—“  she stopped suddenly.  Rarely had she said his son’s name and when the topic came up, she always looked so damned uncomfortable and sad.  Kes simply assumed that the distance and the baby had been especially hard for her, but now wondered if there was something more to it.

“What doesn’t Poe want?”  Kes asked.  He stopped the rocking and leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees.  But Euli just shook her head in that short, quick way that meant she was doing everything to keep hold of her composure.

“I shouldn’t use the Force,”  she said quietly, her voice cracking at the end.  There was something more—something she wasn’t saying.  Whether it was fear or shame or just that she thought it wasn’t any of his business, Kes couldn’t tell.  Then, she asked another question.  One that sounded unsure, but almost hopeful.  “When was the last time you spoke with him?”

Kes sighed and leaned back again in his chair.  “After Starkiller.  He said he’d be out of contact for awhile, but that he was alive.”

Euli turned slowly, her face twisted in a mix of alarm and anxiety.  Her eyes were wide and glistening in the dim light, her teeth clicked together, her grip tightened on the things in her hands.  “You haven’t spoken to him in over a _year_?  You have no idea if he’s alive!”

Kes grunted and stood up from his chair, his joints creaking as he moved.  He frowned at her, because what a thing to say to a man about his son.  “You’re here, aren’t you?  You must have—“

He tried to do the math in his head; tried to remember if she’d given him exactly how old his granddaughter was.  His frown turned into a scowl as he turned her question back around.  “When was the last time _you_ saw him?”

“Seven or eight months,”  she said quietly.  “He’s not coming to look for me, Pop.  If he’s alive, he’d hate me all over again to find me here.”

“ _If he’s alive_?”  Kes could barely repeat the words back.  Of course his son was alive, he had to be.  Surely, he would know if Poe was dead.  Leia would have contacted him, _someone_ would have contacted him.  “He has no idea, does he?  No clue he’s a father.  He’s got a little girl in there waiting for him to come home and not even a hint of her existence.”

That was just one of the things he couldn’t wrap his head around.  In a few short sentences, she had completely lost him.  “You think he hates you?  Again?  This is…”  Kes threw his hands up in the air.  He knew Poe had been pissed at her after he had been captured, but obviously they had made up in some fashion to have managed to make a baby.  It wasn’t that he was mad at the girl, though perhaps on some level he was, he was madder at himself for not asking more questions and demanding answers.  He had seen the heartache there and assumed it was the separation, the war, but maybe part of him didn’t want to know the truth.

“That boy doesn’t have a hateful bone in his body.  I didn’t raise him that way.  And I’m not gonna listen to you talk about him like he’s dead, you got that?”

Euli just nodded and pressed her hand against the door panel.  She looked exhausted, nearly as beat down as when he’d found her on Wetyin.  She said nothing, and went inside.

Kes sighed and turned his eyes up towards the stars.  “Shara, if you’ve got any pull in this—we could really use some help, babe.”

 

~*~

 

Nadja wasn’t exactly fussy, but when her mother entered the room and started getting ready for bed as quietly as she could, the girl’s limbs kicked and little whimpers escaped.  Euli wondered if it was normal, that her agitation, irritation, and sometimes anger became so palpable that even her infant daughter could be affected by it.  There wasn’t anyone she could ask—she could only try to be mindful and calm herself down.  It was hard.  It had always been hard.

Euli picked her up out of the crib and curled up on the bed with her, letting the babe nurse herself back to sleep.  She wondered, if he was alive, if there would ever be any room for forgiveness.  Maybe years from now, if the war ever ended, he would understand.

“Your mother is a terrible person,”  she whispered quietly.  Her lips pressed into the downy-soft little curls of the sleep-eating baby.  “But maybe, here with Pop, you can grow up the way your father did.  You can be good like him.”

In the morning, with the brilliant Yavin star pouring through the cracked curtains, Euli woke to a hurried rapping on the door.  It pushed open and Kes was there, calling for her to get up in an agitated almost-whisper.  “You were right, kid.  Get up!  Come on!”

“Close the door, Pop,”  she grumbled as she pulled the blanket further around her body.  “Let me get dressed, will you.”

“ _Bounty hunters_!”  he hissed.  “Climb out the window and flank them.  I sent an auto-distress to the town, but they’re jamming the comm.  I don’t know if it got through.”

“Stall them.”  She was awake now, and her words firm.  When the door clicked shut, she gathered up Nadja in her arms and placed her gently back into the crib.  “Shh now, baby girl.  Everything’s going to be okay.”

She reached down and wiped some of the milk drool off her daughter’s face before finding a fresh shirt and the blaster tucked up on one of the high shelves next to the model of a U-Wing.  Quickly, quietly, she pulled the latches off the window and removed the outer screen, pulling it back inside the house.  “Shh,”  she hushed the now wide awake infant again as she carefully maneuvered her body through the window.

Blaster gripped in her fingers, Euli pushed herself up against the side of the house and carefully scooted towards the front.  She would move several centimeters then stop to listen, over and over.  She could barely make out Kes talking—obviously trying to be louder than necessary for her.

“Look, I haven’t seen my son in over a year.  And we’ve never owned that model of freighter.  If it’s credits you want—I don’t have any of that either.  But come back in a few months and I’ll have a whole crop of corn.  You can have your fill!”

“We don’t want corn, old man!”

She heard a rustling and a groan—they could have grabbed him, hit him.  Her grip tightened and she pushed the setting off of stun.  She was at the corner now and chanced a look.  Two—one large Twi’lek with scarred lekku, the other a stocky human wearing a visor.

“A dockmaster on this pathetic little moon told us that freighter was here, and the girl who owns it is staying with you.  Stop lying, you old coot!”  A gauntleted fist connected with Kes’ face—and not, it looked, for the first time—but he kept his feet.  Kes lifted his hand and dragged his knuckles up under his nose.  Euli caught sight of something though that made her pause.  He was leaning heavily on the old crutch that used to be hers.

From the window, she could hear the beginnings of a cry and she took one long breath to try and calm her racing heart.  Euli knew the Force was dark at her feet—that she only had a few seconds to make the decision.

“What’s that?  I thought you said you lived alone?”  The human grabbed onto Kes’ collar to keep him from going back inside while the Twi’lek started to make his way towards the door.

Mothering, rational thinking, sticking to the plan, listening to orders—those were all things she struggled with.  But shooting, putting down threats—hell, they were practically stationary.  She didn’t even have to compensate for roll or drift.

The Twi’lek’s body was on the ground before he made it to the second step.  The instant the shot had gone off, Kes lifted the metal rod and cracked it across the other’s head.  The man was only dazed and Kes tackled him to the ground, clawing at his hands to try and get his weapon.

Euli rushed over to them and grabbed the blaster off the Twi’lek’s corpse and pointed both weapons at them.  “Kes, go inside!”  she shouted at him.  The adrenaline and something else pumped violently through her veins.

Kes yanked the blaster from the man on the ground and pushed himself back to his feet.  “You go inside, take care of—“

“Kes, _go inside_.”

He had tried to be gentle, but she wasn’t.  Nadja was screaming now and Euli knew she’d be inconsolable for hours.  Kes took slow steps backwards up the steps.  She heard his footsteps hit the floorboards inside, but not the click of the door shutting behind him.

“Seems the old man was lying.”  The bounty hunter grunted and pushed his cracked visor away from his face to look up at his once prey, now captor.  “Your pretty little face has a pretty large bounty attached to it.”

“My face or the ship?  Consider your answer carefully.”

He stared at her for a moment, perhaps internally debating if he could get one of the weapons away from her.  Perhaps wondering how much of a fight the slight woman could really put up—how good of a shot was she, really.  Euli almost dared him to do it.  Eventually, he seemed to realize he was on the losing end of this transaction and he sighed.

“The bounty was for a beat up Surron freighter registered as the _Aldera’s Song_.  Unnamed female pilot, dead or alive.”

“Who set the bounty?”

“First Order claims it was stolen.”

Euli heaved a long breath, her fingers clenching around the blasters.  “Will they take proof of destruction for payment?”

“Probably.”  The man shrugged slightly in the dirt.

“Kes!”  Euli took a step back and shouted into the house.  “Get the transponder!”

She kept her weapon trained on him, but let him shift upwards into a sitting position.  He looked unconvinced that a piece of the ship would be enough proof.  And something as obvious as a transponder—that wasn’t very convincing that she had gone down with the ship.

Kes, too, looked wary as he handed her the black and grey chunk of equipment with several cords and wires coming off of it.

“This is all that’s left of that ship, and it has a Resistance tracker.”  She dropped it at his feet and shot it twice for good measure.  “Now, it’s battle-scarred.”

He jumped backwards, his legs jerking back from where she was firing.  “It’s a little too convenient, don’t you think?”

“Look at me and tell me if I give a toss if it’s too _convenient_ for you.  You take this to the bounty master, collect your credits.  Or I shoot you in the face like your dead friend here.”  Her features were hard, cold, indifferent to this man’s life.  Her breathing had started coming in hard and she thrust the blasters at Kes who clutched awkwardly at them, surprised.

“You tell them I died on that ship.  You convince them of that fact.”  Euli bent over the man.  The air seemed to be sucked from the space around them.  Sound became amplified.  A heavy weight dropped onto the man’s chest, pinning him back to the ground.  “If someone else comes here looking for me, I will find you.  I will come after you and I will tear you apart in all ways intimate and personal.  Do we have an understanding?”

The man struggled to swallow, seeming to choke on his own terrified tongue.  His skin was pale and sweating and his eyes had sunken back into his face.  The dust around them vibrated—she could feel it, and knew that he could, too.  Her threat carried so much more than the promise of death.

Her heart missed a beat.  She felt the need to gasp for a breath, but she couldn’t let go of the warning.  In a rush of air, the space around them returned to normal.  Nadja was still crying inside, hardly pausing for a breath.  She turned and moved past Kes, barely looking at him as she headed into the house.

“You should know,”  the man said after scrambling back to his feet.  Perhaps he was trying to tell Kes, who had a blaster trained on him, or perhaps he was trying to buy himself a little extra good will.  “The Hutt listings had a counter offer.  The Resistance doesn’t have any credits to throw around these days, but they were offering safe passage and resettlement to anyone who provided information on the _Aldera’s Song_.”

“The Resistance?”  Kes asked.  He sounded legitimately surprised, but was trying to feign disinterest.  “Why would the Resistance want a stolen First Order freighter?”

“Rumor is it belonged to one of their spies.  One that was supposed to have been executed after the revolt at that _displacement_ camp.”

“Shouldn’t put much stock in rumors,”  Euli said sharply as old wounds were ripped open, ready to be put on display for all to see.

“Is there a way to get in contact with the Resistance?”  Kes ignored Euli and her unwillingness to hear the mercenary out.

“Kes!”  she hissed at him.

 “I’ll give you a thousand credits right now if you tell me.”

The man waved his hand at the Twi’lek’s body.  He looked almost relieved at the prospect of not dying on some backwater farm, and getting some credits before he left.  “His commpad has the encryption key for the Hutt bounty listings.  All the information is there.”  His fingers waggled towards Kes who pushed past Euli to go find a cred stick to transfer the payment.

“My threat still stands.”  She looked towards him darkly, making sure he was very aware that nothing had changed.  He paled again and nodded.  One he got the cred stick, he was quickly gone—sprinting to his speeder and zipping away down the dirt road.

“Guess we’ll have to make sure YDF or the constable is on their way—figure out what to do with this dead bounty hunter.”

Euli didn’t answer him.  She stood and watched the speeder race away until there was no longer a dust cloud.  Her breath came in ragged, halting gasps until her legs finally gave out from under her.  Kes called her name and rushed to her side, but she couldn’t hold on anymore.

It had taken too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on schedule. Thank you for reading!


	15. The Tempest and The Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather lengthy chapter, but I didn't want to break it up. Enjoy! :)

**Resistance Listening Post**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

The day before a scheduled supply drop, Euli would put effort into cleaning up around the bunker.  She lived alone, had zero visitors except for the scheduled debriefs—it sapped her desire to even pick up an empty ration packet if it missed hitting the trash bin.  Her hair was a tangled mess, but that wasn’t anything new.  Her clothing was starting to smell a bit ripe as she loathed having to get undressed in the icebox of a bunker.  Instead, she wrapped herself in as many layers as she could and wore the thick blanket as a cloak.

She picked up the empty wrappers, used tissues, and other trash that had accumulated at the workstation, and tossed it into the bin.  “Oh, that’s a nasty one,”  she commented to herself as she glanced at the local satellite data on the computer console.  In orbit of the barren ice moon was an old Clone Wars era relay buoy.  It was low power and only sent bursts of data at random intervals.  Practically undetectable.  It also did quick scans during its data bursts, sending down a general readout of atmospheric conditions.  From the day’s data, there appeared to be an intense ion storm forming out to the east and it would be over the bunker in less than a day.

With a sigh, Euli set the waste basket down and crouched over the console to hammer out a quick message.

 

**[Jilrua – The tempest comes for the soft.  Denial now for future spoils.  Whisper into the darkness. – Snowbird]**

 

She stood and hiked her blanket-cloak back up onto her shoulders.  She glanced down at the bin and then turned and walked away.  If there weren’t going to be any visitors, then there was no real need to continue cleaning.  Though, if that storm was on its way, she should probably prime the freighter.  She hated to go out into the snow.  It was so deathly cold and no matter how many layers or coats or warmers she put on, it felt like the wind was still biting into her skin.

“Have to do it.  What if something goes wrong and you have to leave?  If you can’t start the ship…”  Another sigh and she exchanged her blanket for her coat and a few more scarves.

Out plowing through the snow, the winds had already picked up more than usual.  She sat, barely fitting, in the pilot’s chair of the freighter while the engines kicked on and power cycled.  As the engines warmed and the fluids moved through all their parts, Euli pulled out the small, wooden box and set it on the table.  Her fingers gingerly traced the contents, then dug deftly down into the bottom to pull out the small packet.  Two little colored capsules were all that was left.  She had already started to feel the hum in the back of her skull as well as the other unpleasant side effects.  It would be awhile before anyone came, so she had time to sober back up before anyone saw her again.  But then there were only two left; she needed to make them last as long as possible.  The moon was barren, the Force muted with the lack of life, she could stand it for a few more days.

She rolled the capsules in her fingers and then tucked them back into the bottom of the box.  She powered down the freighter and then was back out, trudging through the snow.  The path she had carved out fifteen minutes ago was already replaced with fresh powder.

Back inside the bunker, she pulled off the bulky layers, leaving coats and bits on the floor.  She poked at the bricks in the stove, trying to convince them to somehow spit out more heat.  She checked the console, no message had been received back, but then it usually took a few hours to hear anything.  Of course, she might not even recieve it if the storm worsened.  The last burst of data had shown the vortex growing and moving slowly—it would be a lengthy ordeal.  She glanced at her dwindling supplies, there was enough to last another couple weeks without a drop, but Euli figured she might go ahead and start rationing just in case.

“Well, maybe tomorrow.”  She pulled out a packet that claimed to taste like tip yip and gravy and heated it up.

After eating, it was another check of the console.  No new messages.  No updates from the satellite.  The storm was likely already interfering with communications.  She wandered around the cramped space, making sure the backup generator was charged just in case the bunker lost power.  Extra charge packs were ready and easily accessible.  She found a lantern and tucked it next to her on the couch along with her pile of blankets and a couple of datapads and settled into her nest for the evening.

Jess had included several novels, essays, and other works as part of a ‘moral’ package.  Threepio had a veritable library of modern publications in his data stores, chief among those was anything published about the Princess.  Her favorite text so far was a compilation by a historical scholar of messages Leia had sent throughout her time in the Rebellion and the Senate.  Most were professional: calls to arms, pleas for aid, notes of gratitude.  Some were personal: exchanges with her husband, her brother, friends and colleagues.  There was the letter she had written to Kes Dameron on his wife’s passing.  Euli read that one several times.

The stove cooled slightly as she dissolved into her pile of blankets.  She must have fallen asleep during her fifth or so re-read as she was jolted awake by someone banging on the hatch.  There were several more thuds before the hinges whined open.  The wind howled down the tunnel that led into the underground bunker followed by another slam as the hatch fell shut.  Wet plops hit the ground as snow melted and then fell.  Finally, there was the sound of heavy boots hitting the floor.

“Jess?  What’re you doing here?  I told you to wait,”  Euli grumbled sleepily, pulling herself out of her nest and standing up.  But it wasn’t Jess.  A small, shocked gasp left her mouth.  “What in the stars are you doing here.”

 

~*~

 

“Oh, you have got to be kidding.”  Poe dropped his heavy pack to the ground in absolute shock of the person standing in front of him.  He shook his head and nearly threw his hands in the air.  “Pava is moving to sanitation.  Well, here are your supplies.  For whatever the fuck this is.”

“You can’t leave.”  Euli had been standing there in shocked silence, but found her voice as he started to climb up the ladder to go back out of the bunker.  “The storms here wreak havoc on electrical systems.  I’m surprised you even landed.  Didn’t you get my message?”

Poe scowled as he turned around, knowing she was right about the storm.  He’d barely made it to the ground before _Black One_ had lost power.  Hell, his droid was still out there in the droid dock having gone into an emergency shut down as well.  “What I got was a bunch of nonsense.  I thought I got it by accident seeing as it was addressed to a Hutt planet?  And really?  You doubted I could land in a little storm like that?”

“Don’t act like you’re invincible.”  She scowled and shook her head at him.  “That was dangerous.  You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“I’ve been through worse.”  The words were harsh and he saw her twitch slightly at the inference, but her gaze never left him.  “So you all just went around me then?  I’m the one who spent years digging up intel on the First Order and now you’re hiding out here and I’m out of the loop?”

“ _She_ asked me!  What was I supposed to do?”

“Say no!”  He could feel the anger and frustration rising up through him, ready to boil over at any second.  He hadn’t been paranoid—they had all gone behind his back.  He’d kept an eye out for the under-documented remote outpost and snatched the resupply tag off the mission board before anyone else had seen it.  Poe remembered the smug look he’d received from Jess and the frown from Bastian.  “How is this supposed to work, huh?  I can’t trust any of the intel out of here because I can’t trust you!”

“Are we still doing this?!”  she screamed at him.  There was a pause as she sucked in a huge swallow of air, pushed her shoulders back, and then turned around.  She walked towards a different room, a scarf and blanket falling off of the mess of cloth around her as she walked.

Poe sighed and glanced around the little hovel he appeared to be stuck in for the time being.  “What a dump.”

For just a second, it almost felt like he was home cleaning up after his father.  He wondered what it was with old people and leaving trash out.  Wondered if this is what happened to one’s sense of hygiene once they stopped interacting with people.  No, he wasn’t going to start feeling guilty.  Pity, probably, but it wasn’t on him.  She had made her cold, disgusting bed.

He dumped the contents of the waste bin into the small trash compactor, cleaned a few caf mugs and the pot which smelled at least three days old.  He hoped she hadn’t actually drank any of that.  “Nope.  Don’t care.  Drink what you want,”  he muttered to himself with a scowl.

Moving through the bunker, he picked up a few pieces of discarded clothing, hung coats up on the hooks by the ladder, and found a towel to soak up the melted snow.  He rummaged through the supply room, putting away the things he’d brought with him and finding a few fresh heating bricks for the stove.  After he got the furnace stoked, he dug out his own ration packet, not even bothering to look at what flavor it claimed to be.

Poe sat at the computer console as he ate, scrolling through the recent data.  The storm was nasty; it was bigger now than the data that had been transmitted to the bunker indicated.  It had grown quite a bit in the past several hours.  He sighed and his foot kicked the wall behind the desk in frustration.  It’d be a long, long delay—too many missed briefings and missions.  He’d be lucky to get any updates from the fleet way out here.  As he continued scrolling through the data, he spotted familiar entries, recordings, and even the short hand notes.  Sure they’d been catalogued and packaged into nice, concise briefings, but he recognized it all.  He wiped a hand over his face and the bottom of his fist hit the table.

Another poke at the stove and he stood staring at the blanket on the floor, one she had dropped.  Fuck, was it cold, but the idea of wrapping himself up in something that smelled like her both made him feel ill and bereft.  He bundled into his coat and curled up on the couch.

When he woke up several hours later, the blanket was over him.

“The storm’s gotten worse,”  Euli told him after he came out of the refresher.  She was still in her wrapping of clothes and blankets, trailing behind her wherever she moved.  It was honestly pretty ridiculous.  “Power went out twice, but the backup generator kicked on.”

“Did the satellite spit anything out?”  Poe walked over to the console and leaned over, but was cautious of his proximity to her as he checked for any new data.

“Seems there was a gap.  Sent down the latest atmospheric conditions.”

Poe frowned at the images on the screens.  Ionization was sky high.  The vortex was massive.  They’d be down here days, at least.  “If there’s another gap, I should go out and try and get Arzero.”

Euli turned and looked up at him.  “Where’s Beebee-ate?  You two are inseparable.”

It was the wrong choice of word and Poe watched her wince as she realized what she had said.  “Finn needed a droid for a special mission and there isn’t one I trust more.  Besides, this was just supposed to be a milk run.”

She nodded and looked back at the screen and he could tell she was trying to push away the discomfort of the moment.  “Jess has a litter for dragging supplies back and forth.  We could use that.”

“No, you should stay inside,”  he said as he straightened up and put his hands on his hips.  It was an almost instinctive reaction, something he didn’t even think about when he said it.  Of course, she should stay inside.  It was far too dangerous out there.

But Euli turned back to him with a glare, misinterpreting his meaning.  “Shove right off.  I must be a huge kriffing idiot to think we could have a civil conversation.”

“That’s not…”  Poe sighed, trying to figure out how to keep the discussion from devolving into a screaming match now that he’d stuck his foot in it.  “It’s too dangerous.”

There was the short, harsh laugh he recognized.  She thought he was the idiot.  “I don’t know what’s worse, you don’t want me to go out there because you don’t trust me to stab you in the back, or because you think you’re keeping me ‘safe.’  I’m not the comatose little moppet following you around, Poe Dameron.” 

Though she was defensively sharp with him, he could hear the hurt still there in her voice.  He put up his hands.  If she wanted to take that as he was ceding the point or just walking away from another argument, that was on her.  They sat around in silence for a few more hours, Poe watching the console just in case any new information came out.  Euli sat on the couch, huddled in her nest, tapping away at a datapad.

When the power flickered again, Poe cleared his throat and broke the uncomfortable silence.  “If you want to get washed up, you should do that before the power goes.”  He assumed it wouldn’t hold, not forever, not if the storm got worse.  She grumbled something indiscernible and when he stood to try and figure out what she had said, he saw her huddle further down into her pile of blankets.  “Don’t be a baby.  Get up, take care of yourself.”

“Ass.”

“Musky, snow Ewok might be an exotic scent, but not confined to this tiny space.”

From under the cap on her head and the scarves wrapped around her face, her light brown eyes glared out at him.  Slowly, she unwrapped herself from the fabrics, almost like unfolding out of a cocoon.  She stood and pulled another scarf from around her neck, pushed the cap off her head, and then stripped the fingerless, knit gloves off her arms and hands, dropping it all onto the floor.  She took a few steps closer towards him as she stepped out of her boots.  Chin up, she unzipped her coat and let that drop to the floor, then lifted her sweater over her head, twined together with another shirt.  She gripped her belt buckle and pulled off her trousers, then her leggings.

Poe sighed.  “What are you doing?”

She said nothing, just pulled and pushed the rest of her clothing off until it was a pile on the floor around them.  Her naked skin prickled in the chill of the bunker, but she didn’t move to try and warm herself, just stood defiantly, bare ass naked, in front of him.

He had his hands on his hips again, his fingers digging into the fabric of his flightsuit as he resisted letting his gaze wander.  He knew what she looked like—remembered all of that quite keenly.  He didn’t need to look.  Instead, he stared right back into her glare.  “I really don’t get what you’re trying to prove here.”

“ _You let him win_.”  She sneered at him before turning and stalking off towards the refresher.

His teeth clenched together and his hands balled up at his side.  Part of him wanted to grab her and shake her because he had fought so hard and _she_ was the one who handed over the victory.

 

~*~

 

It was the sort of cold that would never end.  The kind that was so bone deep, all memory of warmth had fled.  There would never be another summer, no sun on her skin, just this horrible, unending winter.  She curled up in the corner of the sonic shower, shivering while the vibrations scrubbed her prickled skin.  She didn’t want to cry—sure that she was all out of tears for Poe.  He’d never come back to her; never return from the horrid place that monster had taken him.

When she came out of the stall, she was surprised to see a pile of clean, folded clothing just inside the door.  An unwanted tear slid down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away.  “Asshole.”

She dressed quickly, eager to get a barrier between the cool air and her skin.  When she came out of the refresher, she saw that he had cleaned, again—taking care of the mess she’d left behind.  She barely got out asking where all her bibs and bobs had gone before he grunted and pointed at a pile of folded scarves, gloves, hats…

“It wasn’t cold on Alderaan?”

Euli paused for a second before pulling another sweater over her head.  “It could get cold, yes, but not like this.  And if you recall, I mostly traveled with the Fleet.  Climate controlled star cruisers.  D’Qar was rather temperate—quite pleasant actually.”

“Yep.  Shame about that place.”

She huffed at his words dripping with sarcasm.  “What about you?  I thought you’d be freezing after growing up on that manky Hutt’s armpit.”

The chair swiveled around from its place at the console.  One eyebrow arched high at her as he spread out his fingers and rubbed on his trousers, his face barely containing his amused shock.  “ _Manky_ Hutt’s armpit.”  He laughed lightly, his fingers drumming on his knee.  “It’s not really that cold in here.”

“Oh, come to tell me I’m imagining—“  she snapped back at him.  So much for an almost-pleasant conversation.

Poe raised his arms.  Perhaps he hadn’t meant it to be contentious, or just didn’t want to have another argument.  “I’m just saying, the actual temperature is only a couple degrees cooler than a climate controlled star cruiser.  And you’re plowing through the heat bricks—you know what?  Nevermind.  I need to send a message and judging from what I got before I landed, it needs to be in code.  Apparently, I’ve been left out of that, too.  Would you mind?”

Euli frowned.  Jess had said the same thing when she had been by two weeks ago.  The temperature in the bunker was fine.  There was a central heating unit with a fan forcing the warm air through the bunker.  The stove was supposed to be for emergencies, but Euli treated it like the primary source of warmth.  “I told Jess, the whole heating system is broken.”

“Right.”  He stood from the seat once she came over and waved him away, asking what sort of message he wanted to send.  “That I’m here and won’t be leaving for awhile.  You can also tell Jess she can go fuck herself for springing this on me.  I made you a list of supplies you’re going to need.  An astromech would be nice, catch up on some of the maintenance and you could probably get it to go out and prime the freighter if there’s not one of these storms out there.”

Her frown deepened.  She turned slightly to look at him just so he could see how annoyed she was at all of the things he wanted to send in a simple message.  “It doesn’t work like that.  There are preset phrases that have a specific meaning.  Look—“  she told him as she pulled up the message she had sent earlier.  “Jilrua is Jess—the _third_ planet around a _blue_ star—the tempest is the storm, delay supplies, reply requested, but unsure of reception.  I’m Snowbird, obviously.”

Poe grunted and ran a hand through his hair.  “Well, can you imbed the details in the underlying data?”

“You know the First Order controls most of the HoloNet relay stations now, right?”

Poe sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Of course I know that, we’ve been trying to win back that ground for weeks.”

“It has to appear completely benign.”

“Benign?”  Poe scoffed.  “It’s obviously a code!”

“Just go away.  I’ll take care of it.”  Euli turned the chair back around, her head resting in her hand as she stared at the screen thinking of how to frame Poe’s message.  It was stupidly long and contained far too much information they didn’t need.  He paced back and forth a few steps behind her until she was finished.  When she was done, she let him look at it first.

 

**[Jilrua – Farm boy stalled.  The tempest grows and claims needs.  Gasping whispers in the dying light. – Snowbird]**

 

“Farm boy?”  Poe frowned, but nodded.  She didn’t need to explain why they couldn’t send his list of requested supplies.  Rations meant there were personnel living here, parts told what sorts of equipment they had, things like extra warmers, cold weather gear, heating bricks helped narrow down the type of planet or moon they were on.  “You think we’ll lose power soon?”

As if to answer his question, there was a sudden hum and gasping rush of air as the lights went out.  Euli found the small torch she’d placed in the pocket of her jacket and pulled it out.  “Pretty sure that was its dying declaration.”

“Did the message make it out?”

Her hand waved at the now dead console.  “I don’t know, you tell me.  Or do you expect me to just _use the Force_.”

She had said it in a sarcastic, biting way, but he seemed to take it quite seriously—too seriously.  “No, absolutely not.  You can’t use the Force.”

He didn’t know that she couldn’t, even if she had wanted to.  Which she didn’t.  But it startled her, the way he had just shut down the very notion of the Force, knowing how he had been raised and what grew in the yard of his childhood home.  Then, the Force had been rather unkind to them.  Perhaps Poe had lost that unshakable rebel faith—a thought which caused another pierce in her heart.

Without the hum of the equipment or the sound of the warmed air being pushed through the bunker, the howling from above became infinitely louder.  It was as if the storm realized their technology had lost its battle with nature and was laughing at their misfortune.  Poe, as always, took charge in a crisis and Euli just rolled her eyes in the darkness and let him.  He found a lantern and pulled extra supplies from the closet and then shored up the other rooms, trying to block them from stealing heat from the stove.  She dug through a crate, finding a ration packet that didn’t have to be heated.  Some jerky and flakey cornmeal crisps, not exactly a gourmet meal.

Euli curled up in the corner of the couch with her food and watched as Poe puttered and paced around in the dim light.  He wasn’t used to sitting still, and definitely not for as long as they’d been in this bunker.  Now it was going to be even longer.  There hadn’t been any recent satellite data, but at last look, it was at least another day.  He settled down eventually after having put another brick in the stove and poked at it with the metal claw.  He sat on the floor, his back resting on the front of the couch, barely within her striking distance.  She tossed a second packet of jerky at him which smacked him on the side of his head before it fell to the ground.

“Sorry.”

He huffed and picked up the packet, tearing it open and digging the stiff pieces of dried meat out.  “So the General asked you to come out here?”

Euli paused and wondered if he had some idea in his head about what had happened.  If he thought she had wormed her way back in and begged for a job after he had sent her away.  Did he think she was doing it just to spite him?  Had Jess told him anything at all?  “Pascia found me on Brentaal.  I had no idea she had a tracker on my ship, or that she was imbedded with the First Order.  I told Jess and Bastian when I got here that I didn’t want to do it.”  She glanced over at him, his features barely visible in the dim light.  He didn’t turn to face her, just kept digging around in the packet of food.  “I knew you wouldn’t approve.  They told me you could sod right off and that whatever issue you had was going to end up hurting the Resistance.  Said the Princess still believed in me, and how could I ever say no to that?”

“General.”

Euli shrugged, but smirked to herself.  After a quiet moment and no rebuttal, she approached another subject.  “Jess tells me you’re pushing it pretty hard.  Run every mission yourself.  Haven’t taken a day off since before Jakku.”

“The First Order’s not taking any breaks, I can’t either.  Pretty sure being trapped in this bunker counts as a day off.”

“So then you’ve… recovered?  That’s a lot of hard flying—“

“Don’t worry about it.”  It was a clipped statement.  Rather than meaning he was fine and she shouldn’t worry, it was more that it wasn’t any of her business.

“I’m sure you know better than anyone else.”  She had meant to come out sharp and sarcastic, to try and match his tone, but her words were quiet and poignant.

He got up and left, whether to go into the refresher or root around in the supply closet some more, Euli couldn’t tell.  She curled up further into her reconstructed nest of blankets, switched off the torch to save the charge, and watched the warming bricks crack and burn away.

 

~*~

 

Poe tried to sleep in the small bunk room, but with the lack of air movement, the temperature must have already dropped at least ten degrees.  Extra blankets weren’t going to help.  Instead, he pulled the thin mattress off one of the bunks and dragged it into the common room in front of the stove.  He turned towards the couch, to offer Euli the spot as it would probably be a bit warmer, but she had already fallen asleep somewhere in the mess of cloth.

He found a datapad and started a more detailed mission briefing.  Repeatedly, he found himself having to back up and delete sarcastic and unnecessary commentary as it crept into his report.  He was still miffed they had gone behind his back , that he wasn’t read into this little listening post and who was manning it.  From his reactions so far, he supposed he couldn’t really blame them.  And he had never given anyone a full accounting of what had happened.  Leia had never pressed him on it and Poe didn’t want to have to relive it.  If they thought he was the one that broke under torture, so be it.  Better than hashing out all those ugly details again.  Of course, now seeing her here, knowing what he knew, he would have to tell the General and let her decide if she still trusted her choice.

Poe glanced over at the couch as he tucked the datapad away.  After all these weeks, there was still this war going on in his mind.  Seeing her sleeping peacefully, with the familiar crease in her brow—it was a homely image.  One he used to wake up to before he kissed her awake.  He wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t put the things he had seen, what he had felt, out of his mind.

He rekindled the stove before settling down on the mattress to fall asleep, hoping that by the time they woke up, the storm would have abated.

Poe felt a weight resting across his middle, soft and warm and rocking in a way that made his breath hitch in his throat as his eyes blinked open.  Euli was sitting there, straddling his stomach with not a stitch of fabric anywhere to be seen.  It was just an outline of her in the dim light of the flickering embers, but he thought he could feel the warm smile radiating from her face.

“Euli, what are you--?”  His voice was quiet and gruff.  Though his mind was muddled with the memories of the horrors she had wrought, the rest of his body rebelled as he remembered the pleasing way her skin felt against his.

“Shh…”  she hummed, bending over to press hungry kisses against his throat, licking and biting.  Her lips were as soft and fervent as he had remembered them.  Her hips grinding down closer to his traitorous erection caused a needy whine in his throat.  Suddenly, he felt like some teenage boy, desperate to get closer to her but at the same time terrified of losing control.

“Touch me, Poe, please?”  she said in that gasping, hungry way that drove him mad.

His hands, trembling slightly, grabbed onto her hips.  His fingers curled around and dug into her soft bottom, holding her pressed against him.  She laughed lightly as her lips found his, teeth pulling at his bottom lip.  She pulled away and looked down at him as her fingers ran through his hair.  Her lips were still quirked slightly as she watched him, studied him.  Her hands cupped the sides of his head, fingers pressing into his temples.

He couldn’t see her face anymore, just the dark shadow.  Somehow pointed and glinting like metal.  He couldn’t move.  Her legs were stronger than he remembered, pinning him to the floor.

“No!  No!”  he shouted as her fingers dug in, tearing away the scabs of old wounds and making everything fresh and raw.  There was a hissing, metallic breathing—a gasping respirator.  He screamed and tried to fight her off.

“ _Poe!  Poe!_ ”  Hands weakly grabbed onto him, trying to push him away.  They were pulling at his arms, pushing at his face—there was gasping and crying.

Euli wasn’t straddling him, pinning him to the floor.  He was on top of her.  And her hands were not clawing at his brain, but his hand was around her throat.  Squeezing.

He jumped back away from her, scrambling as far back as he could get.  “ _Shit, shit._ ” He mumbled a few more curses at himself and rubbed his hands roughly across his face.  “I—I’m sorry!”

Euli laid there for a minute, half on the floor and half on the mattress.  There were several quick gasps and swallows of air before she sat up and wiped her face with her sleeves.  She must have turned the lantern back on before she tried to wake him because the bunker was lit well enough to see by.  Not the overhead lighting though, the power though had still not returned.

“It’s okay,”  she said breathily.  “I’m fine.”

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as if he was trying to purge the image of what he had just done.  The dream—it had been so vivid, so real.  He could feel her, both the feel of her naked body against him and the horror of those shadowy fingers clawing their way through his mind.  But it wasn’t real, couldn’t have been.  And his reaction…. Despite everything, he never would have put his hands on her like that.  He could never hurt her that way.

“No, it’s not ok.  Euli—“  He pushed himself back further as she stood and walked over to him.

“Look, I’m fine.”  But even in the muted light he could see the purplish, finger-shaped bruising on her throat.  She pulled one of her scarves more tightly around.  He finally noticed that she was still wearing all the clothes she had gone to sleep in.  “We need to talk about what happened.  Not this…  About what Kylo Ren did.”

“ _What?_   You want to talk about that _now_?”  That certainly wasn’t something he wanted to rehash and relive, not now.  Not ever, if he could help it.  He could have killed her and she wanted to go back to the horrible spot where this had all started.

Her head shook slightly, shaking free a few tears.  “Not really, but you hate me because of it and I’ve let you.  I couldn’t figure out how you would think I would do that to you, but I suppose it was easier to blame me.  So I took it.”

“You were there.  You know what happened.”  He sniffed and got to his feet and took another step back away from her.

Again, her head shook.  “No, Poe.  He realized I was trying to help you and he cast me out.  He told me he was going to kill you, was going to kill me, but I told you to keep fighting.  And he did something… in the Force.  I thought you died!”

“No, I—“  Poe moved again and fell onto the couch with his head in his hands.  He had seen it at the time, that Kylo Ren was using Euli to torture him.  Poe didn’t realize how thoroughly.  “He did exactly what he said he would.  Every intimate detail ripped out and used.”

Kylo Ren had used every argument they’d ever had over duty, every time she’d thrown his rank and position back at him, each instance where she’d acted in a way that at first seemed self-serving, but was trying to protect the Republic.  That monster had played on every fight, every fear; had taken his love and torn it down the center with the betrayal.

Euli moved smoothly towards him.  He barely noticed her movements until she was sitting close next to him.  Part of him wanted to push her away, afraid of hurting her, afraid of what it meant that he had blamed her all this time for something that was never her fault.  But he didn’t.

“I told him.”  The words he had been afraid to speak escaped quickly.  Her hand reached over and wrapped around his and he clutched it in his lap.  “I told him everything.  You were…. You were the voice, but I was the one who broke.”

“Shhh…”  she soothed.  Her arms wrapped around him and pulled his head down into her lap.  There was a lump in his throat and his eyes burned like he should be crying, but he wasn’t.  He was in shock, numb.  She pulled a blanket over him, her fingers moving through his hair, quietly murmuring.  Why was she so comforting?  He had been cruel and hateful—the absolute worst version of himself—and she…  “I’m so happy you’re alive.  I still can’t believe it.”

She had asked him before if he felt her in the Force the way she felt him.  He hadn’t really understood.  There was a vague idea, but he had no knowledge or experience to compare it to.  Now there was a keen absence of… something.  There was a trench in his heart to match the trenches in his mind, the place she had once inhabited had been hollowed out and left bare and raw.


	16. Halfway Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The eventual smut is _now_.

**Resistance Listening Post**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

When Euli woke up several hours later, she was curled up on the mattress in front of the stove.  The air was colder still, the heat dying.  She sat up and looked around, but she was alone.  Poe’s coat and boots were missing from their place on the landing and the wet puddles left on the floor told the tale of the hatch having been opened recently.  Euli wondered if he had left the planet.  Taken his chance with the storm and gotten out when he could.  She wouldn’t know unless she went out there and checked.

Slowly, she got to her feet, rubbed her hands across her face and trudged towards the refresher.  She’d give herself a few minutes before facing the reality of being alone again for a few more weeks.  The console was still dead when she hunched over it to check.  The power still off.  She found a canteen and took a long drink of water.  Then found a protein shake and downed that as well.

“Did he leave?”  she whispered into the deathly quiet bunker, her breath puffing out in a cloud in the cool air.

There was no response.

“Typical,”  she grumbled and set to work preparing herself to exit the bunker.

Euli wasn’t sure what she’d do if she got out there and _Black One_ was nowhere to be seen.  To have listened to him realize what had happened, to finally put the pieces together.  To have held his hand and ran her fingers through his hair; to have touched him again after all of this time.  And then only to be left alone with the reality that he still didn’t believe her, still hated her.

At least if he was gone, she could dig her box out of one of the hidden smuggling compartments on the _Aldera’s Song_ and escape for awhile.  She tried not to think of that being the ideal.

 

~*~

 

The wind was something fierce and unholy, taking shards of ice and flinging them across the tundra.  Poe had to walk with his hands in front of his face to avoid their scratching blows.  With the sounds of the winds dying outside the bunker, he had figured they were in the eye of it, or perhaps even abating.  If this was the calm, he really didn’t want to know what the brunt of it had been like.  He had the hope he could reboot the systems on his X-Wing and get a message out, maybe even get the droid out.  If he got that far.  Depending on the size of the storm, he might have to take his shot and leave.

It took a few tries, but the system booted.  He watched the power flow gauges for a moment and it wasn’t long before there was a series of sharp beeps coming from behind him.  Poe grinned at the concerned, but irritated whirring R0-H2 was doing.  “Yeah, we’re okay, buddy.  Can you give me an atmospheric scan?

“How much time we got?”  Poe frowned at the response, but nodded.  “Comm?”

The droid sounded hopeful that he would be able to ping the satellite during this lull.  However, he was sad to report that the droid dock had seized and he was stuck.  “Sorry about that, Arzero.  I need you to encrypt a message back to base.”  He paused, trying to remember what the message Euli had sent before had said.  He pushed the hood on his coat up and rubbed at his forehead.  “Jilrua, farm boy is grounded.  Damn… need supplies, repairs.  Tempest is bad, but nearly over.”  He groaned because he knew that was not the correct way to phrase it, but they would know what he meant.  “Response needed.  Farm boy.”

He pulled the hood back further over his head and dragged the scarf over his face before he reopened the canopy and climbed out.  “Keep the power cycling as long as you can then power down.  Should only be another day, maybe less.”

His next task was the freighter and it took a lot more convincing to get its hatch to open.  The inside was nearly as cold as the outside as it had not had its climate controls utilized in, what Poe assumed, was weeks.  While he had found the bunker as messy as a kid’s room, the freighter was tidy and mostly empty.  There were a few crates of things stacked in a corner, but it barely looked lived in.  The engines took a bit more convincing than the fighter had, but eventually they powered on and he got the juices flowing.

The logs of the _Aldera’s Song_ held no surprises.  She had been to Hosnian Prime, D’Qar, Brentaal IV, and this lonely planetoid.  Her communications were even fewer.  As he leaned back in the chair and spun it back and forth in boredom, he caught sight of something on the co-pilot’s seat.  He sat up and reached over to pick it up.  His fingers stopped as they grazed the wood.

Poe had seen this item before.  Though, it had looked very different when he had seen it.  There had been a swirling sea of black and red emotions and a woman with no memory sitting in the middle of it.  He had watched someone hand her the box, but he had also been the one to give it to her.  It had been weathered and splintered, beaten and broken.  It didn’t look anything like the one he held now, but he knew it was the same.

At the sound of the hatch opening and the wind beginning to pick up outside, Poe took a sharp breath and rotated the chair around.  His elbows rested forward on his knees as Euli walked onto the ship.

“You’re still here.”  It hurt that she thought he would just leave, but then he almost did.  Almost.

“It took a few tries to get both ships running.  Didn’t want to chance that in the sky.  Good news is Arzero says the backside of this thing isn’t as bad.  Bad news is he’s stuck until we can get someplace warmer.”  There was a long, awkward silence that hung in the air.  His feet pushed the chair slowly side to side while she stood with her hands fidgeting inside her gloves.  “Just came to see if I’d left?”

She frowned at him slightly, perhaps not wanting to admit it, or perhaps it was another reason entirely.  “The engines have to be primed daily.”

“Done.”  Poe tapped the console behind him though he was still watching her.

“The power should have come back by now—“

“Probably fried a board somewhere.”

Euli nodded.  “I was going to try and salvage something from the ship, but I’m not sure what to look for.”

Poe leaned back in the chair, his fingers drumming on his knees.  He wouldn’t even begin to know what sorts of parts to look for, and he told her as much.  The winds were already picking up, they’d be hitting the backend of the storm soon enough.  There wouldn’t be enough time to go back to the bunker, come back out to the ship to scavenge for parts, and then go back again.

Euli sniffed and unzipped the outer shell of her jacket and pulled out a datapad.  “I took some images of the inside of the generator.  They’re not very good, but…”  She had started walking towards him to hand him the pad, but stopped.  Her eyes had spotted the box left out on the seat.  “You went through my things?”

“No, you left it here.”

“ _No_ , I put that away.  I know I did.”  She was remarkably defensive for the keepsake, but he knew it held significant meaning for her.

“I promise.  It was sitting right here when I came on board.”  He watched her stand and fidget.  Her fingers squeezed around the datapad and then relaxed and then squeezed again.  “That’s your place, isn’t it?  Where you put the things only you value?”

Her head nodded once.  “My grandparents had it made for me when I was born.  It’s tradition.”

“You kept hold of it all this time?”  Poe was impressed and he was sure it shown on his face.

“Did you open it?”

“No, of course not.”

“Do you want to?”

An amused smirk danced across his lips.  “Even without the Force, you still read me pretty well.”

“The Force.”  There was a soft scoff as she glanced away.  “I had finally accepted my place in it.  Welcomed it even, after all this time.  That monster made me hate it, even more than I had before.  I feel like—“  She took a quick breath as she tried to keep a hold on her composure.  “I feel like I’m drowning.”

Poe watched her carefully and he knew instantly what she meant.  “Like there’s a hole and it’s been filled with every painful moment of your life and every time you breathe, you just swallow more of it.”  Poe watched as tears had started to slip down her cheeks and collected in the scarf wrapped around her neck and chin.  Euli’s words from the day before rang in his head, _“You let him win.”_   Kylo Ren had broken them in a way so intimate, with every doubt or streak of anger he threw her way, Poe was still letting him win.

“I just wanted it to stop.”  It had turned into a confession, though Poe wasn’t sure what of.  She set the datapad aside and picked up the box.  Shaking fingers pushed the lid up on its hinge and she turned it so he could look inside.  The items appeared random, but he knew they must hold some special significance to her if they were in there.  She shook the box slightly to shift its contents and he caught sight of the clear packet and the pair of colored capsules inside.  He knew what they were before she even said it.  “Death sticks can deaden your connection to the Force.”

Poe swallowed and reached in to carefully pull the pills out, just in case she tried to snatch the box back and slam the lid on his fingers.  He was glad that she had told him, but _what the hell were you thinking?_   “Euli, those things take _years_ off your life.”

“I just wanted to be free.”

“Did it work?”  It was a bit harsher than he had intended and she snapped the lid shut and picked up the datapad.

“You can give those back now.”  Whatever momentary reverie that had brought about the confession was gone.  She held out the datapad for him, obviously expecting to trade.

“No way.”  How could she do this to herself?  With every hit, it raised the stakes that the next would be fatal.  He reached out his hand to grasp hers, to let her know that he was here and he would do everything he could to help her.  But as his fingers brushed her wrist, she flinched back and the datapad went crashing to the ground.  “Euli, I—“  He didn’t even know what to say.  What could he say?

Euli rubbed her sleeve over her face and adjusted her hold on the box again.  She eyed the packet still in his fingers as if internally debating if she could take him for it.  That would mean she’d have to lay hands on him, and she’d just shown that was something she was no longer comfortable doing.

“We don’t have very long until the backside of this storm hits,”  she said after a moment.  “If we’re going to fix the generator, we should get on that.”

Poe picked up the datapad and scrolled through the data she had brought.  He kept glancing back at her between turning the pad to get a better look at the images, to which she would just frown and tell him to hurry up.  They worked as quickly as they could, locating and cannibalizing parts.  If there had been more time, maybe he could have found some in the backup systems.

“Make sure you make a note of what we need to replace,”  he told her.  “Especially this board from the nav.”  The ship could still leave; it was more of a question of limited jump capabilities.  An easily workable problem.

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“This is probably the worst posting on the board, not gonna lie.”  He had meant it to be almost a joke.  A laugh at all the other terrible assignments that had come before.

There was a pause as she shoved the parts into a bag.  They were finished, and not a moment too soon.  Out through the viewport, it was close to white-out conditions.  It would be a slog to get back through the snow.  “Someone had to do it.  And since I am essentially _‘persona non grata,’_ I suppose who better.”

Poe frowned, the humor lost.  It was his fault.  He saw the situation through new eyes.  Though some of his thought processes and emotions were still bent and not quite making the connections that made sense.  Logically, he knew she hadn’t betrayed him or the Resistance.  She had taken the absolute worst job just to contribute and help, to fight.  It was painfully honorable in a way that he should have known she always was.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  As if such a simple phrase could possibly make up for what he had done.

“Are you going to give me the death sticks now?”

He shook his head.  Again, no way.  He got up quickly before she could realize what he was doing and moved to the galley.  With her loud protests following behind him, he opened the hatch for the trash chute and chucked the packet with the drugs inside.  Eventually, they’d be compacted and incinerated with the rest of the garbage.

“You have no right to do that!”  she shouted at him.  She stared at him as he walked past and picked up the bag she had dropped.  She was seething angry breaths through her teeth.  He was nearly to the hatch when her voice stopped him, calmer than what he had expected, but still barbed.  “What happened, it put us both in a very dark place.  Only I didn’t have the luxury of an enemy to take my aggression out on.”

“Luxury?”  He turned around sharply to look back at her.  “Wait a damn minute—“

But they didn’t have a minute—not to have this argument, another argument, that would take far longer than sixty seconds.  Euli stormed around him and slammed her hand against the button for the hatch.  Poe quickly followed her out.

Back inside, they had brought the chill with them.  The bunker was still massively warmer than the outside, causing them both to shed a few layers and produce a sheen of sweat, but the conversation remained frigid.  Poe went to work on the generator and it wasn’t long before the power kicked back on.  Finally, there was light; the air compressors whined to life and the stagnant air started to move again.

Euli fell into the seat at the computer console, but her fist hit the table in frustration.  “No transmissions.  Trying to ping the satellite, but the interference is back.”

“Arzero says the backend isn’t as strong.  Power should hold and we’ll be out of it by tomorrow.”  After an extended silence, Poe went and busied himself with other tasks.  He again took the job of picking up around the bunker—hanging up coats and other arm bits that had been discarded onto the floor.  He wiped up the puddle of melted snow at the bottom of the ladder and added a couple fresh bricks to the stove, even though the main heat had come back on.

“Do you have any actual food, or just rations?”  he asked, breaking the long silence.

“Just rations.”

Poe groaned.  He was starving for something other than dried and flakey protein-vitamin-whatever.

“There’s caf.”

Well, that certainly was a silver lining.  He grinned asked her if she wanted a cup, which got an affirmative sort of noise.  Soon, they were sitting on opposite sides of the couch with hot cups of fresh caf, something they had both sorely missed.

“It was bliss,”  she said rather abruptly.  “You asked if it worked, if I was free.”  There was a wistful smile on her face as she looked over at him, the cup clutched in her hands.

“That’s usually how those things work.”

Her head shook slightly.  “Oh, that part was fine, but after...”  she trailed off and it took her a moment before she came back around and decided what she wanted to tell him.  “I think I’ve been broken for a long time.  But when I lost you, all that patchwork holding me together came apart.  The Force… and everything… it was too much effort.”

The pair of them were a mess, Poe could see it.  For a moment, he thought about his father and mother.  How their war had changed them.  He didn’t know them before—he had just been a baby when they’d gone off to fight, but he had the memories of his grandfather, and the stories others had told.  Euli had been in that same war and he knew how it still haunted her.  What had happened to him, it was such a brief thing.  It wasn’t years of non-stop fighting and running, but it seemed it had affected him more than he had realized.  War didn’t discriminate.  It broke everyone.

There was something he had to fix.

Poe stood and set his cup down on the floor.  He moved over to her and took her cup from her hands and set that on the floor as well.  More than anything, he wanted to take her hands in his, squeeze them, try to find a way to reassure her, but she had repulsed away from him earlier.  Instead, he sat on his knees in front of her, probably looking as pathetic as he felt.  “I’m sorry.  For all of it.  I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but I would really like to.”

There was a quick intake of air and her face contorted like she was desperately trying not to fall apart in front of him.  “I can’t stop mourning you.  I know that you’re here, but I can’t change…”  She couldn’t even put it into words, the soulless void she must have felt.  He felt it, but imagined on a much smaller scale.  Poe wondered how it would feel to be cut off completely from the Force.  If it would be like losing a limb, or more akin to losing your sense of smell or hearing.

“If you were blind, how would you know it’s me?”  She looked slightly confused by his question, her eyes blinked and her head cocked to the side.  “You’d listen to my voice, touch my face or my hand.  Use all your other senses—“  He stopped suddenly and licked his lips anxiously.  He didn’t even know if she understood what he was trying to say.  “I don’t know how to make the pain go away, but I don’t want to what he put in my head to be what I see when I look at you.  I want to hold you and remember every amazing moment we had.  I want you to know that I’m here—I’m right here.”

_Come on, sweetheart.  Meet me halfway._

She sniffed and rubbed her sleeves across her face.  Then her hands moved, pushing the cap off of her head and slowly unwrapping the scarf from around her neck.  Poe held back the wince at seeing the faint, purple mark on her throat.  He had done that and here he was kneeling in front of her, begging to let him put his hands on her again.  She unwound the blanket from her shoulders and pulled the long gloves from her arms and fingers.  She leaned forward in her seat and Poe smiled down at her fingers as the wrapped around his.  His thumbs rubbed across her knuckles and he brought them to his lips, kissing softly, before resting his cheek on them.

Euli read his motions and moved her fingers across his face, over his cheek, curling around his ear, toying with the curls on the back of his neck.  Though her fingers were cool, that didn’t dampen the electric spark he still felt on his skin.  He pushed away any of the ill thoughts, any of the feelings he knew were not his own, and focused solely on the feel of her skin on his and remembering all of the times before.  Her other hand moved across the right side of his face, brushing over the scar he still carried there.  It had been deep and not treated properly, then gotten infected on Jakku.  He’d likely always carry it unless he went to some fancy Core hospital for cosmetic surgery.

“I didn’t understand how deeply entwined we all are.  How the Force so resonates in all aspects of life, whether we want it or not.  Whether we are open to it or blind to its influence.”

“I’m _right here_.”  But she gave him that small smile, the one that was so familiar.  The smile that told him he didn’t quite understand what she was trying to say.  Her smile drooped as her fingers continued their slow, deliberate trek across his features, dragging just lightly down his neck, sending shivers up his spine.

“All of that fighting, killing, but a boy breaks my heart and that’s what tosses of the stabilizers and sends me into a spin.  I think me from thirty years ago would hate the me sitting right here.”

“I’m pretty sure me from six months ago hates the me that’s sitting right here.  If that guy was here, he’d throttle me, and I’d deserve it.”  Poe sighed and glanced down at his hands.  What a fucking mess.  “I believed a stormtrooper.  Knew it in my gut he was gonna help me.  Had no reason to, but I had some hope that there was still good in people.  I didn’t give you that chance.  Of all people, I should have believed you.”

 “Is there any way back for us?”

Poe stood and the power flickered.  He glanced up at the lights, but they seemed to hold, for now.  He took a breath and offered his hand.  Thankfully, she took it and he pulled her to her feet.  She let the extra bits of scarves and the blanket fall away.  Poe placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed the bulky jacket off.  His hand came up and cupped her cheek, his thumb just brushing away the few tears that had escaped.  “I’m going to fight that monster wherever he is.  In the stars, on the ground, in my head.  I’m not letting him win anymore, Euli.”

He held onto her, couldn’t let her go.  After weeks of nonstop missions, flying, fighting—of too much adrenalin and not enough sleep.  It felt like a lifetime since he’d kissed her.  That last kiss, it had been aggressive and angry and desperate.  This kiss held a hint of that desperation, but somehow found a forgotten tenderness.  Her lips were as soft as he remembered and tasted of the black caf, no milk or sugar.

“I miss you so much,”  she said, her voice hoarse and quiet against his lips.

“Hey, hey, look at me.”  He brushed her hair back and again held her face in his hands, making her look at him.  “Ignore everything else.  Just focus on me, on what’s in front of you.  What do you see?”

She took several breaths and he could tell that just as he was forcing away those awful memories, she was making herself ignore the part of the Force that told her he wasn’t there.

“Your hair is longer.”  Her hand came back up between them and she pulled at a curl near his temple.  “And a bit grey.”

“Finn says it makes me look distinguished.”  But the look on her face told him she didn’t quite agree.  Perhaps she saw the stress, the long hours, and the memory of just how terrible war was.  There was a long intake of breath and she exhaled slowly, the warm air buffeting his wrists.

“You smell like engine coolant and…”  There was a long pause as he watched her think; watched her make the connections.  “Stale, cockpit air.  This is the first planet you’ve been on in weeks.”

“Tell me what I taste like,”  he said, his voice husky and full of need as he pressed his lips into hers again.  His fingers pushed back into her hair, holding her head in place.  Her lips opened and invited him in and he nearly sank to his knees right there, ready to drown in all those misplaced emotions.

Her teeth dragged against his bottom lip and she smiled, not wistful or nostalgic, but almost happy.  “You taste a lot like the man I fell in love with, but he likes milk in his caf.”  Her smile fell slightly, her fingers moving to just push across his lips, moist from the kiss.  “He told me he loved me right before he thought he was going to die.  I know that he did.  Do you… do you still…?”

That fabricated betrayal, the lie that he had believed, that still haunted him.  It had cut him so severely because he loved her.  She was the thing he had hoped to come home to, the light at the end of a long mission, the comfort in failure and the enthusiastic supporter in his victories.  Even if he couldn’t keep her as such, let her go to wander the dangerous galaxy alone.  Stars be damned, he still loved her.  “Of course.  Sweetheart, I’m sorry—“

“Stop apologizing and prove to me you’re still alive.”

It was a challenge, perhaps, maybe a plea; either way, he’d take it, take her.  His lips met hers briefly and then traveled across her jaw and down to her neck.  She had pushed his jacket off his shoulders, but she was still in too, too many clothes.  He was only wearing his flight suit and some thermal underclothes, it was really unfair.  His fingers found the hem of a sweater, and then a shirt, and a thermal, and then finally skin.

“So many fucking layers,”  he growled in between the biting kisses he was planting just below her ear.

She laughed, and it was like a song.  It took him back to a memory of a dangerously skinny woman sitting in the infirmary with tangled black hair and an enrapturing mystery.  Poe sighed against her skin and nearly shed a tear at how his mind had brought him that moment in time.  She had struck him in the heart that day, got her hooks in and neither one of them even realized.

With his hand stalled, Euli took a step back from him and tried to pull all those irritating layers off in one go, but an arm got stuck somewhere and she was left half naked with four shirts around her arms and head.  At first, Poe laughed.  Then, his hands trailed lightly up and down her sides.  Her skin was already bristling in the cool air along with dark nipples, stiff and waiting.

“Poe, can you…?”  her voice trailed off as she tried to pull her arm out of the trap of sleeves.

Poe just hummed as he rested his hands on her hips and pulled her closer, his lips dragging across the top of her chest.  “Maybe.”  He felt the low moan in her chest as one hand came up and cupped a breast while his mouth moved over the other.  There was a noise like a whine when he tugged her nipple between his teeth and her arms drooped, the collection of tangled shirts pressing on the top of his head.  He tongue moved in lazy circles around the taut peak, and then the other.

Finally, his hands pushed upwards over her arms, and pulled them free of the clothing.  Carefully, he helped her pull them off her head, a mop of black hair exploding out.  He smirked at her flushed and irritated expression.  “Cocky ass,”  she said before throwing her arms around his neck and once again crashing their mouths together.  Her hands were in his hair and then over his chest, moving to find the zipper on the front of his flight suit.  She smiled against his mouth as her fingers found it and began tugging downward.  His hands let go of her for just a second to shake his arms free and pull off the thermal undershirt, but then they were back on her, running down her back until he hit the curve of her bottom and squeezed.

Euli’s hands were similar in their questing.  After his torso was bare, her hands moved downward, inside his pants.  Short, but sharp nails dug into his ass as she pushed the rest of his flight suit and the thermal pants underneath down.  It was his turn to let out a little moan as her hands moved across his body, until she had his balls in her palm and slowly stroked upward along the shaft.  Her thumb moved over the tip, pressing and spreading the bit of moisture over the head.

_Fuck._

Poe wasn’t sure if he’d said it out loud, but she chuckled.  Whether at his foul mouth or the fact that his eyes had drifted shut and he was clutching onto her like some inexperienced kid afraid of blowing his load too early, he wasn’t sure.  Her lips moved, across his jaw, down his throat, pausing only briefly for little nips with her teeth.  She kept moving, kissing a long trail down his chest, his stomach.  His breath hitched as soft lips replaced her thumb.  Her lips traveled down the length with gentle kisses; her tongue just darting out for a taste.  Slowly, she kissed and licked her way back up.  He watched her lick her lips before she pressed them against his head and took him into her mouth.

For a second, Poe couldn’t remember if she’d done this before.  There was a vague memory of coming back to his quarters after a long flight and a long debrief, and being so dead on his feet he didn’t even remember getting undressed, but he did remember lips and tongue and a dark head moving rhythmically.

His fingers curled into her hair, quietly urging her on.  When teeth just barely grazed across the length of his cock, his hips bucked involuntarily and he swore again about the things she was doing to him.  Her lips pressed against him and moved back and forth twice more before he sprung free of her warm mouth.  There was a shiver as the cool air collided with the wetness she’d left behind.

His hand moved to her shoulder as she stood, almost as if she was holding him upright.  His eyes were still half-closed until the jangling of a belt and the snap of a button pulled him back from savoring those feelings of her lips and tongue.  His eyes opened and he watched with half a smirk as she wiggled out of her trousers, leggings, and panties, kicking them into the now large pile of discarded clothing.

She barely had time to react before his arms were around her and he practically tackled her to the mattress still on the floor.  She squealed and giggled and oh, he had missed all those happy little noises.  They lay on their sides with her knee hitched high over his hip.  One hand cradled her head as he kissed her while the other traveled down across her back, over her thigh, and squeezing her knee before coming back around.  Poe smiled as she rocked against him, trying to get closer, to find some relief.

“Tell me what you want.”  His lips left hers and traveled down her throat, leaving bruising kisses all the way down to her collarbone.  The tips of his fingers dragged slowly up her leg again before pressing into her hip and then moving slowly across the curve of her ass.

“You.”  Her breathing was heavy with want.  She had one hand in his hair, tugging almost painfully, and the other digging into his forearm as if to get him to do something other than just graze his fingers across her skin.

“Yeah?”

“ _Yes.  Poe._ ”  His name left her lips in a plea and again his fingers curled around her bottom.  He found the folds of her sex, wet and warm, waiting for him.  She gasped and moaned as his fingers slid tauntingly back and forth over the folds of skin.  He thought he even heard a little growl as he teased.  When he pressed the first finger into her, he felt the stumble in her breathing, and with the second, her grip on his hair and arm increased.  Poe grunted at the stinging pull on his scalp, but did not pause his movements.  Deft fingers thrust into her, curling, spreading, pushing as far as his wrist would allow.  He read every twitch in her hips to give her more of what she wanted, needed.

His lips dragged back up her throat and pulled on an earlobe.  “How we doing, sweetheart?”  She moaned something into his ear, maybe it was words, but he liked the sound of it.  Liked the way she pressed and moved against his hand, begging for more.  “You know, we’re alone on this planet.  Can be as loud as you want.”

“Kriff…kark…kara—“  A mangled batch of dated curses left her mouth before Poe grinned and covered her mouth with his for just brief taste.

He licked the pad of his thumb on his unoccupied hand and reached down in between them.  “Scream for me,”  he told her, practically commanded it.  His thumb found the sensitive little nub and moved over and around in the way he remembered drove her mad.

Euli gasped and cried out, and there might have been a bit of a laugh in there as well.  He whispered words of encouragement as her muscles clamped around his fingers and the orgasm washed over her.  He held on for every tremor, and the way she sang his name and clutched onto him.

He rolled her the rest of the way onto her back and settled between her slackening knees.  “Can you do it again for me?”

“Anything.  Anything.”  Her hands were reaching for him, to pull him back, but he just wanted to watch her.  Her skin, dark, yet glowing in the muted lights, had lost the bumps brought on by the cold; her hair, short and framing her head like some halo of shadow.  Her back arched and she let out another gasping cry that she didn’t dare try to muffle as he entered her—filling her in one, purposeful thrust.

Poe let out a strangled grunt and nearly lost it right there.  She was so warm and familiar and so perfectly molded around him, and it had been so, so long.  It felt like a lifetime when really it had only been months.  In an instant, they had crossed a hundred years and a thousand parsecs.  Something so distant suddenly felt within his grasp.

He hooked his arms under her knees and lifted her bottom up for a better angle.  At first his movements were measured, slow; he wanted to take her with him, over and over.  Euli was never patient and he knew when he hit that spot deep inside because hips shuddered and bucked.  She matched his rhythm and then pushed him to go faster.  Their chorus of pleasured grunts and moans drowned out the freshly woken machinery of the bunker.

Her thighs flexed against his shoulders as the second orgasm wracked her body.  He felt it in her legs draped over him, in the fingers trying to grasp and hold onto him, and in the swollen flesh he never wanted to leave.

“ _Poe,_ ”  she moaned his name.  “Come with me, flyboy.”

He could almost see the stars.  So tightly wound with the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders.  But her, and everything she had brought into his life and what she wanted to give him even after all of the horrible things that had been said and done.  Even as the last of the aftershocks of her climax faded away, her hips still rocked with him, still begged him to join her in sweet bliss.

He lost it.  He swore and screamed and called her name.  Buried deep inside her, he came, gave her everything he had to offer.  He had stopped, lip tugged between his teeth as he struggled to hold himself upright, lost in those seconds of euphoria.  Euli pushed back and forth against him until the last twitch, until his muscles went slack and he fell onto the mattress next to her.

After a minute, once their breathing had become less fevered and the high of the moment had started to taper off, Poe reached over and grabbed one of her hands and brought it up to his face for inspection.

“What are you doing?”  she asked lazily as she scooted closer to nestle in close to him.

“Seeing how much hair you pulled out.  Pretty sure I’m bald now, too.”

She chuckled and pulled her hand away to rub at the back of his head.  “I’d apologize, but I think you enjoyed it.”

“What’s the verdict then?  Am I alive or just the most anatomically correct sex droid?”  Euli propped herself up on her elbow and hovered over him, barely cracking a smirk or even an annoyed shake of her head at his remarks.  She watched him closely, too closely.  He knew what she was doing, how she was looking.  “Sweetheart, _don’t_.”

“I see you.  Not quite the way I used to.”  She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.  His hand snaked around and rubbed up and down her bare back as they savored the slow, tender kiss.  “I can’t understand what he did, what he broke in the Force…”

“Hey.”  He pressed his hands to the sides of her face and made her look at him.  Made her see the honesty in his eyes, the belief of what he felt.  “He didn’t break _us._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay getting this chapter out. Life is hard sometimes. The last four chapters are their own arc and it's about halfway done. I hope to finish before the end of the year, but with the holidays and all... we'll see. Thanks for sticking it out with me. :)


	17. We Were Never Good at Running Away

**Resistance Listening Post**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

The air hummed through the compressor; the heating bricks cracked in the stove.  Every few minutes there would be a slight whir and beep from the computer console.  Euli knew she should get up and check it—at least pretend that she had work to do, but part of her was still unconvinced this could be real.  So she curled in closer next to Poe’s warm body and pulled the blanket up further around them.  Poe was still in the nude, but Euli had pulled some of her layers back on.  The cold, she knew, wasn’t the temperature in the bunker, though it didn’t help.  It was the withdrawal from the death sticks.  It had been days since her last hit and Poe had dumped her stash, which was good, she forced herself to admit, but it didn’t make this whole process any less bothersome.

She still hated the Force.  Still wished she could just turn it off.

He had fallen into a heavy sleep, waking only once when she’d gotten up use the refresher and put another brick into the stove.  He’d pulled her in close and told her not to leave again.  Euli was pretty sure he was still mostly asleep, but she let him gather her up in his arms until he resettled.

_"I’m gonna bring all your supplies from now on, as long as there’s no other serious missions.  Take my sweet time, too.”_   He’d told her just before he’d drifted off.  _“And I’ll tell Brance to set up some rotations for this outpost.  You still need to meet Finn, and all the new pilots.  I think you’ll get a kick out of yelling at some nuggets again.”_

New pilots.  Rebellions always needed new pilots, because the old ones kept dying.  Just keep throwing bodies onto the fire, believe the cause is just enough.

Euli tried to sleep, but couldn’t.  The drugs had been out of her system for too long now and the awareness had settled back into her cells.  It pressed down on her with a heavy sense of dread.  Before, if Poe was with her, she’d huddle against him.  Just his presence would be enough to soothe away the pain and the doubt.  He was enough to hold her to reality.  Now, it felt as if they were both adrift.  She could hold onto him for a time, but they weren’t tethered together in the same way.

When he twitched and grunted in his sleep with his fingers grasping at the blanket around them and his features twisting in pain, Euli froze.  He grunted again, louder—maybe he was trying to say something, but it just came out all strangled and broken.  She sat up and scooted away from him.

“Poe?”  she called his name, but didn’t dare try to reach out and touch him.  She had made that mistake the night before.  He had been thrashing on the floor and crying out.  Euli leaned over him to shake him, to try and pull him from the nightmare.  He had lashed out at her, easily overpowering her and throwing her to the floor.  One hand wrapped around her throat—squeezing.  She had been on the other side of that, once; knew the sort of hate a person had to carry in order to do that to another being.

He loved her, she believed him when he had said it.  Part of him did, but there was another part still entrenched in a dark fissure in the Force.  She didn’t know how to fix that, and was too terrified to try.  Instead, she pushed herself up onto the couch and balled herself up in the corner farthest from him.  She wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them close to her chest and cursed the Force over and over.

She called his name again, but it wasn’t her voice that shot him awake.  An angry noise from the computer console sounded: the proximity alarm.  A vessel had entered the system and failed to transmit the proper codes to the satellite.  Euli jumped up to check the data, but before she even made it to the console, the sound died.

“Oh no… how did they find us.”

“What is it?”  Poe was still breathing heavily from the nightmare and being jolted awake, but he quickly began finding his clothes and pulling them on.  “What was the alarm?  Did you shut it off or—“

“They shot down the satellite.”  There would be no mayday, no call for help.  Euli pushed open the door to the supply closet and began pulling things out.  She strapped a pistol to her waist and pushed a sack of small, grey orbs out with her foot.  Not bothering to set up any sort of controlled implosion, she let the detonators roll around the floor of the bunker, making sure several made it around the computer area.  She picked up one and shoved it into her pocket.  Poe may have been asking her questions, but she didn’t have time to listen or respond.  He should have figured out what was going on without her having to spell it out.  She found her coat and her sack with the few things she’d brought down into the bunker and slung it over her shoulder.  “Smash the datapads.  Make sure you wear your coat.”

“Did the satellite send what’s up there before it went out?”  He pulled on his boots, but didn’t tie them and jammed his heel onto the several datapads stored in the bunker.  Even the private one of Euli’s, because who knew what was stored there.

“No, it could be anything.”  Her eyes darted towards his for just a second, terrified it could the First Order, or worse, and then quickly went back to grabbing what she could.

“Euli.”  Poe grabbed her arm and halted her frantic movements.  “Take the X-Wing and get out of here.”

Her eyes went wide for a second, but then she shook him off.  “No, don’t be foolish.  You need to get back to the Resistance and you’ll have a better chance—“

“I’m not letting them take you.”  He looked resolute in this decision—that he would take his chances with the slower freighter (which they had just dissected the navicomputer of in order to buy a few hours of power).  He’d save her, but at what cost?

“No.  I’m not explaining to the Princess how you were captured _again_.  I’m not letting you put the fleet at risk just so you can be the hero _again._ ”  It was a low blow and Euli knew it.  It was intentional and she wanted it to hurt; wanted him to realize how foolish trying to save her life at the expense of his was.  How much more valuable of a prisoner he would make.  “I have no secrets to offer them.”

“He’s going to kill you,”  he said, his voice strained.  No longer was it ‘they,’ the First Order, or whoever was in orbit, but ‘he.’  Kylo Ren.  The man whose tendrils of power had carved through Poe’s mind and who still managed to torture him months later.

Euli took a sharp breath.  It was very likely.  She had always thought the War would take her one day.  In a way, she had been right.  She had never expected to lead any sort of normal, domestic life.  “Then I die.  Loved and remembered.  What more could I ask for?”

Poe let out a harsh breath and stepped back from her.  It seemed that was not the answer he wanted and perhaps he had some barbed response for her, but she wouldn’t let him.  They needed to leave.  She barked out orders at him: told him to hurry up and finish getting dressed and reminded him of atmospheric conditions, as if he didn’t already know.  It didn’t matter to her that in strictly military terms, he outranked her; in Resistance terms, he greatly outranked her.  For a second, Euli wondered if they had met in a different life, if they would have gotten along.  She had hardly gotten along with any of her superiors.

“Euli.”  Before she could push him up the ladder leading out of the bunker, he turned and grabbed her arm again.  “I’ll come for you.”  He kissed her—quickly, fiercely.

When he pulled back, Euli had an almost devious little smirk on her lips as her eyes looked him over.  “Yeah, you always do.”

 

~*~

 

Poe opened his mouth to respond, but instead, let out a breath that was almost a laugh and shook his head.  He gave her a small grin and a wink, and climbed up the ladder.

“Set your comm channel to Peth-Dorn-Five-Eight-Xesh,”  he called as he broke away and trudged over the waves of snow towards the X-Wing.  Behind him, Euli tossed the last detonator back into the bunker before slamming the hatch.  As they ran for their respective ships, the ground vibrated underneath their feet.

When he got up the ladder, he stopped and looked over towards the _Aldera’s Song._ It was the same feeling he had standing outside Tuanul as he watched it burn—the same feeling he had in the Republic.  He couldn’t stand by and not help; not do everything that he could to save them.  And he absolutely had to do everything in his power to keep her safe.  It was a promise he had made, and one he intended to keep.

“She’s gonna be so mad at you, Dameron,”  he chuckled to himself as his boots sunk back into the snow.

For a split second, he forgot they were running for their lives and wished he could have recorded that shocked look on her face when he jumped up the ramp of the freighter just before it snapped shut.  She swore at him and hit him on the chest and tried to shove him back out the hatch, but it was too late.  The door was shut.

“Hey, hey.”  He pushed his hands down her arms and held her still.  “We have a better chance to both get out of this if we work together.”

She sniffed and pushed her shoulders back, as if determined to not let the moment overwhelm her.  “And you all teased me for losing so many fighters.”

They rushed into the cockpit and nearly sat on top of each other in the pilot’s seat.

“This is _my_ ship, Dameron,”  she told him pointedly.

Technically, it wasn’t really, but that wasn’t the point he needed to argue.  “Yeah, but I’m the better pilot.”

She balked at his cocky assertion.  “Says who?  I would have shot you out of the sky if you hadn’t brought up Shara.”

“I flew this hunk of junk through a shifting debris field.”  They were near the same height, but he was more built, solid.  He easily blocked her from sitting in the pilot’s seat and settled into the controls.  “Take over the guns.  You’re a good shot.”

“And I escaped HopSec with a droid as a co-pilot!  And Brentaal with no co-pilot!  This is absolutely—“

“Hey.”  He shifted slightly in the seat to look at her as the freighter lifted up off the snow.  Even though he knew she was incensed that’d he’d forced her out of the way, he couldn’t help but smirk at way her lips and brows pushed together in defiance.  “My fat ass was here first.  Next time, be a little quicker.”

She sighed loudly and fell into the co-pilot’s seat.  “We won’t have sensors until we break atmo.”  There was a pause; he could tell she was turning something over in her head, debating if she wanted to tell him.  “The reason I’m a good pilot—I don’t always need sensors.  I could—“

“No.”  Even though now he knew for sure that the things that had happened with Kylo Ren had been nearly all lies, he still couldn’t shake the feeling.  The words that had been said about Euli’s connection to the Force—how it was like a beacon.  He couldn’t bring himself to let her take that chance.  They would have to rely on each other and hope the Force minded its own business for awhile.  If it bothered her, she didn’t say anything in the moment.

“We’ve got four—six—kriff.”  Euli gripped the cannon’s controls and hunched over the scanner readout.

“I see it.”  Poe pulled and twisted at the flight controls, trying to bank away from where there was a swarm of ships.  A large bulk freighter was in their way along with a couple smaller ships and a smattering of mismatched fighters.  It reminded him of a few of the run-ins with Outer Rim gangs.  Not particularly skilled, but tenacious and vicious.  And right now, they were severely outnumbered.  “Just have to make it to an empty patch of space.  There’s a rendezvous location—“

“It’s spooling, but—“  He heard her fist hit the side of the console.  “We can only jump to presets.  D’Qar, Brentaal, Yavin… Hosnian Prime.”

They were all terrible options.  D’Qar likely still had First Order probe droids waiting for anyone foolish enough to return there.  Brentaal had seen increased First Order occupation in recent weeks.  The Hosnian system was just gone.  And Yavin… if they were tracked back home, that was another problem entirely.  Not that he really expected this ragtag bunch to be able to do that, or why they would want to.

As these thoughts were circling in his head, he was pushing the freighter as hard as it would go.  It was sluggish, and alongside the jump options and calculating evasive maneuvers, he was making a mental list of all the systems that needed fixing on this rusted, old machine.  They took a shot to the engine that jolted the whole craft.  Another thing added to the list.

“Lost that engine.  I’m plotting Yavin.”

Poe grunted and nodded, his arms flexing as he fought against the roll of the ship.  “That headhunter—get it and we should be clear.”

Her hands moved from the nav back to the weapon console.  They banked hard to the left, nearly taking him out of his seat, but he righted the craft in time.  He heard the triggers click and saw the bolts leave the underside of the ship, arcing out in front of them.  They struck the smaller craft dead center and Poe whooped.  “Nice shot!”

“Okay, flyboy, get us out of here.”

“Roger that.”

The excitement was short lived.  The elation of seeing their escape died as the ship jerked backwards.  “Push the thrusters!  Push them!”  Euli shouted at him.  He had to grab her hands as she reached over the console to try and jerk the controls away from him.

“It’s a tractor beam.  We’ll tear the ship in half if we fight against it.”  He pressed his fingers gently into her wrist and felt the hammer of her pulse.  She was scared, but they needed to keep their heads.  “We’ll figure it out.  Is there any sensitive data in the computer core?  Any datapads lying around with any information—any at all?”

She took a long breath and then shook her head.  “Everything was in the bunker.”

“Good.”  Poe nodded and powered down the engines and other systems.  His thoughts were trying to organize themselves into what they needed to do first.  He could try and talk his way out of it, and depending on which gang had found them, there was a small chance they were no friends of the First Order.  However, given the bounty on his head in particular, it was more likely they’d sell him.  He got to his feet and pulled Euli against him.  “You and me, right?”

Her head nodded slightly against his shoulder.  “How many of them do you think there are?  I’ve only got a couple blasters.”

“We’re not going to be able to fight them.  Not here.  We’ll have to figure out how to alert the Resistance or escape.  No names—we’re not Resistance, okay?  We’re just people trying to hide away from the war.”

“What if they go down to the surface?”

“Hopefully they’ll think there’s nothing valuable since we were running away.”

The ship jerked as the tractor beam shifted focus.  They were approaching the large hauler and would soon be pulled inside.

“Poe—“  she started, suddenly sounding alarmed.  “Your uniform!”

He glanced down and immediately started pulling the offending clothes off.  The parka dropped into the seat and as he quickly zipped out of his flight suit, Euli took off out of the cockpit.  “Yep, get captured naked.  Typical.”

The ship shuddered again as it passed into the cargo hold of the much larger ship.  Poe could see it out the cockpit screen: large, old, intimidating.  Humans and aliens with blasters patrolled the upper and lower levels.  From just this glance and the welcoming party they had sent, this was a rather large operation.

“Yeah, not fighting our way out of this one.”

“I should just tell them you’re my concubine.”  It was her usual sort of flirtatious humor, but seemed to lack the amusement in her voice.  In her hands were a pair of trousers and a shirt, obviously his that he had at one point left on this ship.  How very lucky.  He quickly pulled the clothes on as the ship settled down on the floor of the bay.  Euli pulled the knit cap off her head and pushed it over his hair.  “I suppose we just hope they haven’t seen any of those recruitment posters.”

“Or the bounty listings.”

Euli nodded mutely as she gathered up his flight suit and rushed down towards the back of the ship, likely to drop it into the garbage incinerator.  Poe took a deep breath pushed his hair back into the cap before pulling it further down, nearly covering his eyes.  He pulled his parka back on and started walking down towards the hatch.

He watched her hurry back down the corridor, meeting him there as soon as they heard the thudding of someone banging outside.  He knew she was cool in the skies, but obstinate and proud.  They’d have to keep their heads to make it through this.  “Just let me do the talking,”  he told her.

With an eyebrow raised she glanced sideways at him.  “This is still my ship.”

He frowned deeply at her, but then just shook his head as he reached forward and pressed the button to open the door.  A group of pirates swarmed quickly through the hatch, blasters raised.  Thankfully, none seemed to be too trigger happy as they manhandled the occupants of the freighter.  A few fanned out and started tearing through the ship to see if there was anything worthwhile.  They would be disappointed.  Two stayed back and searched Poe and Euli for weapons, which they didn’t have.  When a Devaronian’s hand lingered too long on Euli’s hip, Poe shook off the one digging in his pockets and knocked into Euli, pushing her out of his loose grip.

“We’re just travelers.  We don’t have any valuables… but anything on the ship you can have.  Just let us on our way.”

Perhaps disappointed the alien’s leering had been interrupted, he turned and snapped his fist into Poe’s stomach.  He grunted and doubled over.  The Devaronian’s attention turned back to Euli.

“What’s your name, little vixen?”

“Hey, pal—“  Well, so much for playing it cool.  As soon as Poe stuck his arm out to try and get between the Devaronian and Euli, he got clocked again.  This time, right in the face from his Nikto partner’s boney fist.  For a second, he saw stars and fell to the ground clutching his now bloody nose.  Through his fingers, he saw her glance down at him.  Her face was set in a frown, then she turned back towards their captors.

“Euli Avedis.”  Poe winced and groaned both at the sound of her saying her own name and his busted nose.  “As he said, we don’t have any credits or anything of value.  We’re just trying to stay away from the fighting.”

_“What’s going on down there, Xallo?  What’d we get?”_   A voice came over the Devaronian, Xallo’s, comm.

There was a devilish grin on the devilish face as he lifted the small device to his lips to respond.  “Junk freighter.  No cargo.  Couple mangy looking humans.”

_“Run ‘em through the listings.  Maybe we got lucky.”_

“What about his name,”  Xallo asked, waving his red hand towards Poe still dazed on the ground.

“He’s not important.”

“That didn’t answer my question, little vixen,”  he snarled back at Euli, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.  His taloned fingers twisted dangerously close to her already bruised throat.

Euli stood still for just a moment.  Poe watched her, praying she would say the right thing.  He tried to get up, to mutter something, but he only received a kick from the Nikto for his trouble.  Euli still didn’t move and after that moment, he felt it.  The slight hum in the air—the sudden lack of oxygen.

“He’s not important.”

“He’s not important.”  As if in a trance, the Devaronian repeated her words.

“You find me rather unattractive.”

A sudden look of disgust came over Xallo’s features.  His lip curled revealing pointed yellow teeth and he growled as his hand jerked away from her.  “Disgusting humans.  Clear out this ship and toss them in a cage.”

“Xallo,”  the Nikto ground out.  His basic was rough and barely intelligible.  “What about the man?”

“He’s unimportant.  Just a slave.”

As Poe was dragged to his feet and binders placed on the both of them, he looked towards Euli.  She didn’t look back at him, however.  She stared straight ahead and her features were drawn and ashen.  She looked exhausted.

They were saved, for the moment.  But Poe still worried at the cost.  There was the toll the Force seemed to have taken from her body, as well as any outsiders who might be looking in.


	18. Sold

**First Order Resettlement Camp**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

“State your name.”

“Arash Yeb.”

The docking port was loud and overrun.  People were piled into cargo holds like livestock and then herded into orderly lines to be in-processed.  Some had packs, but most only had the clothes on their backs.  Poe and Euli felt lucky to have kept all of their clothing so far, even if that was all they had.  The extra layers Euli still had packed on would help them should the climate of this planet end up being just as chilly as the last place they were at.  Glancing about the people working here, Poe noted they were all wearing the typical First Order uniform with their little caps.  It told him nothing as they would have worn the same outfits if they were on Jakku or Hoth.

“Planet of birth.”

Poe wasn’t sure why that was information they needed.  Perhaps some sort of further cataloguing.  “Coruscant.”  He said it just loud enough so he was sure Euli, standing only a step behind him, would hear.  They’d talked briefly over what their story would be, but she seemed uninterested in forming a false narrative.

When he’d asked her why she’d given them her real name and not a fake one, her answer was simple and obvious.  _“I’m the idiot who has her name permanently inked into her skin.”_   And it wasn’t like she existed in any official database anyway, she was keen to remind him.

“Hold out your arm.”

Another man in a lighter colored uniform approached with something akin to a hypo-syringe in his hand.  When Poe hesitated, a guard grabbed his arm and forced it out so the device could be pressed into his skin.  A tiny data chip was inserted just under the skin—tracker, indentifier, very small bomb…  _Let’s not get too morbid yet, Dameron._

“Next.”

Poe took his time sidestepping to the next stop in the line where everyone was disrobing and chucking their clothing into a large crate.  Guess they wouldn’t be keeping all their warm-weather gear after all.  As Poe glanced further down the line, naked bodies were being led into another area where they were getting hosed down.  He took his time pulling off his clothes so he could listen for the answers Euli gave the officer.

“State your name.”

“Euli Avedis.”

“Planet of birth.”

 Poe glanced over at her during the long pause.  He sighed slightly, realizing she wasn’t going to lie.

“Alderaan.”

The man entering the information into the datapad as well as the guard and med tech stopped to stare at her.  Poe took a step back towards her and offered,  “My wife was just a baby when they left.  Before—“

The guard snapped out of the stunned moment and shoved Poe back towards his task.  There was more shoving as he moved down the line, through the cold jets of water mixed with some sort of antibacterial chemical.  He was only slightly surprised they weren’t using a sonic wash, but supposed it was just another layer of the humiliation and dehumanization to soak them all in cold water.  After that, he was given a grey jumpsuit and a small tote containing a tooth brush, comb, toilet roll, and a washcloth.  A prison camp that cared about hygiene, how thoughtful.

The wide doors of the docking facility led out into a dusty courtyard.  It was full of people—the new arrivals as well as a large crowd that was dry, also in grey jumpsuits.  A platform had been erected and the newbies were all craning their necks to see what was going to happen next.  Those who had been there longer were just going through the motions, seemingly having done all this before.  Poe tried to hang back to catch Euli when she came out of the building and had to fight to hold his footing and avoid getting jostled.

He squeezed back when her hand found his and he tucked her in against him.  “Stay close.”  He kept them from being pushed in the crowd, finding their way to the edge, next to one of the permacrete buildings.  The courtyard had several long buildings around it, with more buildings stacked behind.  On the far end of the docking platforms, he could just make out walkers.  Not walkers for combat, but ones for transporting material.  There must be factories or a refinery, maybe even a mine.  When Poe glanced back at Euli, her lips were purple and she was shivering, but he could see her eyes darting around taking stock of their surroundings as well.  _Good girl._

“Weather’s better than our last digs,”  he commented.  The air was still, no wind other than the occasional ship flying overhead.  It was mild as well, not to hot or cold.  A bit humid, but not as bad as Yavin.  “How are you feeling?”

They had spent almost a week with the pirates in their cramped “cage” that was nothing more than a closet with a lock.  Euli had spent the first day exhausted and near catatonic, and Poe had been sick with worry after her.  She came back around slowly, but while Poe was plotting ten steps in advance in all different directions to find a way out of their situation, she could only see the immediate problem.  Euli had spent so much energy trying to work through how to just get out of the closet, Poe wasn’t sure he’d be able to depend on her to keep her head through what he knew was going to be a long process.

“Tired,”  she answered finally.

“Cold?”

“Just a bit.”  He wrapped his arm around her and held her close.  There was a short pause before she let herself have a small grin.  “Why didn’t you take my name when we got married?”

Poe blinked, slowly processing what she was saying.  “What?  Why would I—“

“On Alderaan, you would take my name.  My family is more highly ranked in society.”

“I guess if we were on Alderaan, I might consider it.”  He winced slightly as he pressed the side of his face into her hair.  He’d taken a couple more punches from their captors before they had been sold off to the First Order.  At least his broken nose and the swelling had managed to help hide his identity.  “My parents kept their names.”

She hummed softly at his answer.

“I’m seeing barracks—there’s either a factory or a refinery here.  Probably pulling stuff out of that mountain.”  Poe’s head jerked off towards the north where plumes of smoke were coming out of a large building.  Behind it, they could just make out the point of a mountain top through the haze.  “Not too many guards.  Less than what I expected.”

“Residents must be fairly docile then.  They don’t look half-starved either.  Do you think they’re onsite or is there a town nearby?”

“Hard to say without more of a look around.”  He squeezed her elbow slightly and nodded his head off to the right, drawing her attention to an array of antennas on top of one of the buildings.  “Closed system?”

“Has to be,”  she answered.  Even if they somehow managed to cobble together a rudimentary transmitter, they’d still have to slice directly into the comm system to get a transmission out.

There was a hush that came over the crowd, their voices giving way to the clicking of heels across the dais.  The veteran prisoners were standing stock still, eyes forward, and the rest followed their example with uncertainty and fear.  With his arm still wrapped around her shoulders, Poe felt her gasp as they watched a woman in a First Order uniform stride across the platform, followed by a man in tattered black cloak.

“It’s not him,”  Poe whispered into her hair.  This one was wearing a different sort of head piece.  Not a helmet, but a mask.  Black and silver and red and stylized like some sort of cartoonish monster.  At his side was not the saber Poe had seen on Kylo Ren’s hip, but he wielded a long lance with a jagged vibro-edge at the top.

The officer gave a clipped, rather aggressive speech about the “resettlement camp” as it was apparently called.  It touched on all the features of the glory of the First Order, the strength in order, and the true vision of their great leader.  Poe listened passively, his eyes focused on the man in the cloak.  He was surveying the crowd, pausing occasionally to stare into the masses, and then moving on.  It was hard to tell where exactly he was looking with the mask on, but when the mask drew to face their direction, Poe forced his focus back to the speaker.

“He’s looking,”  Euli whispered next to him.

“Deep breaths.  Stay calm.”  Poe dropped his arm from around her shoulders and rested his hand just on her back.  He wasn’t sure if his advice was really worth anything, but he knew that if she panicked, if she got angry and lashed out, they’d definitely be noticed.

As the Sith’s mask faced their section of the crowd, gaze hovering for a long moment, Poe had to remind himself to also take slow, deep breaths.

 

~*~

 

Inhale.  Hold.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Exhale.

Shaking fingers fumbled with the latch on the wooden box with the rebel starbird carved into the side.  There was an echo of a voice telling her what to do, how to hide, how to shut away from the world.  But there was a blackness—a void in the weave.  Not everything fit together in quite the right way.

Inhale.  Hold.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Exhale.

A gaze cast over the top, a cursory glance.  It would swing back around for a closer look, she knew.  She could see it coming.

_The place only you value._

_Don’t let them see._

Inhale.  Hold.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Exhale.

He was staring at her, she could feel it.  Euli looked straight ahead at the woman in the uniform still speaking.  Her arm was jerking forward as she spoke loudly and emphasized her point, whatever that was.  The words were just a buzz in her ear because she knew, if she heard them, they would incense her.  Her mind focused on Poe’s hand resting on her back; she focused all of her energy right there.  She shut the doors and shuttered the windows and shoved the box into the back of the closet.

The gaze moved on.  And she let out the breath that she had held for far beyond the four-count.

“We good?”  Poe asked quietly.

“No, but we’re not dead, yet.”

The crowd shifted at the end of the speech.  A few troopers in white armor were deployed to force them all into orderly lines.  The veterans, mostly gathered at the front, knew what was expected of them and formed quickly into their perfectly spaced lines.  The confused mass of people tried to huddle, but were jostled and pushed, forced into uniformity.

She glanced at Poe, but he was still appeared to be casually taking in the scenery.  Keen eyes picking up whatever clues he still could from the orderly chaos around them.  Euli didn’t understand how he could be so cool and collected in this moment.  Stormtroopers, Imperials, walkers… she could almost hear the screams of the TIEs as they were pushed into their lines all in their matching jumpers.  She must have been breathing hard through her teeth because there was a gentle pressure on her back again and the quiet reminder from Poe to stay calm. 

They were marched out into one of the barracks.  It was a long permacrete-made building lined with uncomfortable looking bunks stacked four high.  The facilities were all in a separate building from the sleeping quarters.  Though there seemed to have been some emphasis given to hygiene when they’d arrived, the whole building stank of filth.

“See if you can claim a top bunk,”  Euli said quietly to Poe as they shuffled into building and around the rows of bunks.

“Is that really the priority?”

“I helped liberate an Imperial work camp when you were still in diapers.  If this is anything like that, you’ll thank me.”

“Sure, play the old card.”

Poe was quick and moved with a precise deftness, even out of the cockpit.  Not to mention he could smoothly charm anyone with an easy word and his infectious grin.  He managed to lay claim to a top bunk up against the wall and Euli pulled herself up after him.

The lights were out at precisely 2200 hours.  They could tell because there was a tone emitted from a speaker every hour.  Though there were some quiet murmurings around them, most people seemed too exhausted or scared to converse.  Poe and Euli laid curled close to each other, with their clothing pulled close to their mouths to muffle their words.

They went through the obvious modes of escape and the obvious reasons why they wouldn’t work.  Poe was reminding her that they needed to be patient—they wouldn’t be able to do it in a day.  They’d have to survey thier surroundings, get used to the way things were run and find a weakness.  Plot out just how they were going to either make a run for it or get a signal out.  Have a backup plan, and a back door, just in case.  Euli ground her teeth as she agreed with him that it would likely be weeks, if not longer, before they’d be able to put any plan into action—if they even figured out a way to escape.

Euli didn’t want to think that there wasn’t a way to get out.  He reminded her to have hope.  Hope in their friends.  Jess would go to the outpost and find it destroyed; find his X-Wing abandoned.  Even if they couldn’t find a way on their own, the Resistance could be out there right now looking for them.

Poe tucked her head under his chin and kissed her hair.  “We just have to survive until they get here.”

Survive.  That was something Euli knew how to do.

Poe fell asleep at some point during the night.  She rested her head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.  It kept her centered, kept her thoughts from drifting out into the void.  This was the most people she’d been around since Brentaal.  Even the pirate ship had less than a dozen on board.  Here, there were hundreds, probably more.  It wasn’t as bright as she remembered.  All of their little lights were muted and blurred together.

In the morning, they were all shuffled in orderly little lines and given work assignments.

“We need more information,”  Poe whispered to her as they slowly made their way through the queue.  “If one of us can get into a job in one of these buildings, or even the factory, we might get a clearer picture of what we’re up against.”

 Her head nodded slightly, but she wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying.  Her eyes darted out across the open yard, watching as the veteran workers walked in unison to their already assigned tasks.  Lines like ants heading off to do work for their queen.  Though in this case, it was their militaristic dictators.

Many loaded into massive vehicles that looked like giant metal boxes on repulsors.  They were driven off towards the mountain, running parallel to the walkers making the worn trek from the docks.  Some headed to the docks, but not many.  The factory was close enough that the lines of grey jumpsuits walked there.  Though not as many as seemed to be shipped off to the mountain, the factory appeared to be the second largest job in the camp.  Surprisingly, Euli noted a few walked towards the main compound.  She wondered what sort of skill set one needed to get a job there, because that would be ideal.

As her eyes raked back towards the next pile of workers to load up and head out towards the mountain, she caught sight of a figure she swore was not there before.  The man clad in black with the wicked, bladed pole was standing in the middle of the yard.  His red and black mask stared straight ahead at the people slowly shuffling forward to receive their assignments.

Her fingers reached out and tugged at the fabric on the back of Poe’s jumpsuit, though her hand fell away as a white helmet turned towards them and barked at them to stay in formation.  Euli’s eyes bored into Poe’s back.  She said nothing, barely moved a muscle except one foot in front of the next to get to the front of the line.  She didn’t even take note of the questions she was asked when she made it to three people wearing uniforms holding datapads.  She was fairly certain she answered yes to everything, whatever it was.

“Building forty-three.  Report to Foreman Sendine.”

“Good job.”  Poe’s voice pulled her out of the trance along with the slight nudge to her shoulder.  “I’m on the next convoy out to the mountain.”

“What?”

“You’re gonna do great.”

“Let’s go.  Get a move on.”  A stormtrooper grabbed at his arm and pushed him towards the group of mostly men and built-looking aliens all headed towards the mountain.  Then, she turned towards Euli and snapped at her to get in line.

As Poe walked away, his finger lifted up to his eye, reminding her to keep a look out.  She nodded and took two quick breaths before she too was pushed in the direction she needed to go.

 

~*~

 

“Nothing?”

“No ma’am.”  Finn pulled up the survey footage from the moon that had formerly been their listening post.  When Poe had failed to return, Jess had gone out ahead of schedule and discovered both of their operatives missing.  A further team had been sent to investigate, and Finn insisted he lead it.  “We found pieces of the satellite—low density burst, so not First Order.  The bunker was bombed out, likely by our people.  Poe’s X-Wing and astromech were still onsite and undamaged.  The droid recorded the _Aldera’s Song_ leaving the atmosphere, but that was it.”

The General’s eyes glanced across the faces of the gathered pilots and a few members of her command staff.  “We still have a tracker on that freighter, don’t we?”

Jess stepped forward and pulled up the few bits of data that had been sent.  “It’s been disabled, or…”

“Let’s not go there, yet.  Has there been any noise from the First Order that they have them?”

“Not yet, General.”  It was Snap Wexley who spoke up this time.  “And I’ve been monitoring private auction networks.  No one matching either of their descriptions has come up for sale.”

Leia sat slowly back into the chair next to the oval console.  She had to decide how much of their limited resources could be spent looking for Commander Dameron and Ms. Avedis.  They were deeply embroiled in the fighting, winning back ground and then losing it.  Scattered reports from Chewie indicated he, Rey, and Luke were as much on the run as the rest of the fleet was.  Whether just hunting old ruins for Jedi artifacts and ancient lore, or trying to stay two steps ahead of Kylo Ren, the Wookiee hadn’t said.

They were stretched too thin, fighting too many enemies at once.

“We’ll keep an ear to the ground.”

“General—“

She held up a hand towards Finn, knowing he would do anything to find his friend.  “As soon as we have information, we’ll act on it.  For now, we trust in their abilities and hope that the Force will guide them home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _casually changes chapter count_
> 
> Almost there. Thank you for reading!


	19. Namesake

**First Order Resettlement Camp**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

The work in the mines was grueling and backbreaking.  There was no reason they had organic beings doing this work, other than they wanted to break their spirits along with their bodies.  All of their tools were thoroughly checked upon leaving, as well as an aggressive pat down.  Poe had even seen a few people strip searched on the walk back to the transport boxes.  No chance getting a weapon or materials out that way.

He wondered how Euli was getting along, but those first several days he was so exhausted, he could barely shovel the gruel into his mouth before passing out once they made it back to the bunkhouse.

Most people didn’t want to talk or were afraid to talk.  Sometimes, though, when the guards weren’t watching too closely, Poe would charm someone with a grin or a joke.  He had gotten a Twi’lek man named Ziven to give him a basic rundown of how things worked.  Ziven, he discovered, had been here almost a year.

“Harder now than it used to be,”  Ziven told him.  “They pulled most of the guard some months back, but the work increased.”

Poe nodded as his vibro-pick cut into the crystalline vein and chipped away chunks into the basket at his feet.  He figured that coincided around the time of Starkiller’s destruction.  “What are they building here?”

“Weapons, mostly.  They send the raw materials somewhere else for refinement, and then we get parts back here at the factory and things get assembled.”

“Somewhere else?  Off world?”

Ziven chuckled and shook his meaty lekku.  “No, to another camp.  They’re all over this planet.  All different parts of the same machine.”

Poe frowned.  Their plan, whatever it ended up being, would have to be swift and precise.  It would be far too easy for this camp to get backup.  Reinforcements would likely be able to arrive in a matter of minutes.

“What about the foreman?”  Poe asked Ziven as they stood in the queue to get loaded up onto the transport at the end of the day.

Poe could practically hear the Twi’lek’s sneer.  “Collaborators.  The lot of us do what we’re told because we don’t know what else to do; don’t have anywhere to go.  Those ones—they fancy themselves part of the First Order.  Think one day they’ll get to leave this place.”

“That ever happen?”

“Nope.”

In the bunkhouse and out in the yard, they received stares of a different kind.  Poe tried to be friendly, get people on their side, but Euli was closed off.  She snapped if someone tried to approach them, and the dark look in her eyes easily got the message across.  There was an older man that Poe often noticed casting glances their way.  Poe wondered if he had been someone important in his life before this, or just the sort of character that garnered a posse.  He seemed to have a small following of people that either followed him around or hung on his words.  Euli called him a “shot caller” and told Poe to watch his back around someone like that.  But he knew she was watching it for him.

It was an interesting side to her.  Part of him found it adorable, but he didn’t tell _her_ that.  She had mentioned that she had been part of a team that had liberated an Imperial work camp like this one, but she had also been in prison as an inmate.  The way she walked and stared down anyone who dared to look at her—it was a direct challenge which thankfully no one had taken up.  They seemed to have been correct in their initial assessment that the population was fairly docile and didn’t want to upset the status quo.  Poe wondered if there was a history behind that, or if, like the Republic, they would rather just avoid conflict and roll over.

They were given two meals a day: breakfast and a late dinner.  It was the necessary amount of calories required to not die and little else.  A tasteless paste that they scraped out of plastic bowls that were immediately returned.  Rain or sun, they lined up to a series of food dispensers and ate sprawled out in the yard.

It was at breakfast one day when the shot caller made his move.  Poe noticed he had two others standing nearby.  Whether they were supposed to be guards or just hangers-on, he wasn’t really sure.  The old man passed behind him and spoke low.  “I think I’ve seen you before somewhere.”

Poe licked a lump of the paste out of his bowl and shrugged.  “Maybe.”

“Your type anyway,”  he said as he sucked on his teeth.  It gave Poe the impression of a serpent which seemed to line up with the general vibe he was getting from the man.  “I can fill you in on how things are run here.  We could work—“

“You stay away from him,”  Euli snarled, suddenly at the man’s side—standing far closer than Poe ever thought she would get to a stranger.

Poe realized the man’s two lookouts were keeping an eye out for the stormtroopers, not his spitfire companion.  They turned nonetheless and started to head towards them, but Euli had something in her hand and she dug it into his side.

“Tell them to back off, or you’ll be dead in under a minute.”

The man grimaced and held up his hands half-way.  His associates paused, but still watched.  Poe noticed they hadn’t really looked prepared to actually deal with someone uncooperative.  “Tell your friend I don’t—“

“Wife.”  Poe licked another portion of the paste out of his bowl and into his mouth.  “I’ve found telling her to do things doesn’t work very well, though.”

“We can help each other.”  The man tried again, but then gasped as if whatever Euli was holding had managed to pierce skin.

“You stay away.  Or I will kill you.”

With a huff and a sour look, the man jerked away and stalked off, his two inept goons following.  Poe reached out and grabbed onto her wrist, inspecting the item in her hand.  “How’d you get such a sharp point on your toothbrush?”

“Found a good rock.”  She tucked the shiv back inside her jumpsuit and picked up Poe’s canteen off the ground for a drink.

“Did you eat?”

“Not that hungry.”

“Still feeling sick?”

Her shoulders shrugged and she looked to where the man had walked away to.  “What did he want?”

It was Poe’s turn to shrug.  “Don’t know.  You threatened to shank him in the prison yard before he had the chance.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anyone.”  He licked the last bit of paste out of his bowl and then took the canteen from her and took a swig.  “They don’t pat you down at the factory?”

“Foreman can get a little handsy, but he’s pretty useless.”

“I’ll shank him for you.”  Poe grinned and gave her a wink.  Finally, the hard look broke and she cracked a bit of a smile.  The chord signaling that it was time to queue up for transport out to the mountain sounded over the loudspeaker.  Euli took his bowl for him as he leaned in for a quick kiss.  “I love it when you assert dominance, by the way.”

Her lips pursed together in a way that he knew she was holding back a laugh.  “Go on, then.  Be careful.”

Poe smiled after her as he jogged up to the waiting transport.  Kept his eye on her until the bodies piling into the box crowded him into the middle and all he was left with was the view of the heads of slaves.  It had been his plan to stay isolated, not let anyone know who they really were or their plans, but the longer they were in here, the more he realized they weren’t going to be able to do it on their own.  And despite Euli’s acidic demeanor towards almost everyone, there were a few people that Poe had gotten to know, like Ziven.  None of them deserved to be here.

Poe knew what he had to do for the Resistance, but wasn’t sure he could stomach leaving all of the people in this horrific camp behind.

When he came across Ziven again in the mines, Poe asked about the shot caller.

Ziven chuckled and shook his head with an odd sort of glint in his beady black eyes.  “Tried to recruit you into his gang, did he?”

“Something like that.  Sounds like he’s working on something.  Any idea what that is?”

Ziven looked from one side to the next dramatically, though Poe had made sure there were no guards nearby when he had started the conversation.  “Rumor is he fancies himself a revolt.  Used to be governor of Donadus.”

A former politician who wanted to go against the First Order?  Maybe that was someone he did need to talk to.  “Are there a lot of political prisoners here?”

There was a snort from Ziven as he laughed again.  “Just about everyone who’s human.  Aren’t you?”

Poe just shook his head.  He’d be worse off than a political prisoner if anyone found out who he really was.  “Wrong place, wrong time.”

“Same.”  Ziven slapped him on the shoulder and then stepped away as the sound of a stormtrooper’s boots echoed off the rock walls.

After their evening meal of more tasteless paste, Poe collapsed immediately into their bunk and passed out for a couple hours.  When he woke up, he stretched as much as he could in the cramped space and rolled slightly so he could curl his arm around his girl lying next to him.  His hand roamed around in the darkness until it latched onto hers.

“What’s that?”  he mumbled, his fingers finding a small bit of metal in her hand.

“Control board for a repeater.  One of my rifles will have a defect.”

“They won’t notice?”

Her shoulders shrugged slightly against the thin mattress.  “Maybe.”

“We need to be careful,”  he reminded her.  “If we draw attention—“

“I know,”  Euli cut him off and rolled over to wedge her prize into the pocket they’d cut into the mattress.  Hidden inside were a few odds and ends of circuitry they’d managed to collect, not yet enough to build anything useful.  She squirmed back next to him, her arms snaking into his jumpsuit and around his torso.  “I don’t want to die here.”

Poe sighed and pressed his lips to the top of her head as she nuzzled in closer.  “It’s at least number four on worst places to die.”  She just huffed against him, not even a small laugh.  “Shot caller’s a former Republic politician.  He might be a good friend to have in here.”

Euli gave him another annoyed huff.  “And that’s supposed to make me trust him?”

“Point.”

 

~*~

 

It was tedious, mind-numbing work.  It was the sort of work that should have been done by droids.  By an assembly line of automatons—certainly not by cramping human fingers.  The Nautolan sitting next to her however, didn’t seem to be having the same sort of difficulty.  The long claws on her dark brown fingers deftly moved inside the weapon shell—fitting all of the tiny pieces together and snapping them in under the white and black plastic covers.  She made ten in the time it took Euli to do one.

Euli looked down at her hands, completely inept for this type of work.  She had always hated tedious, repetitive tasks.  Poe should be in this sort of job, not doing manual labor in a pit.  He probably would have hated the monotony of it just as much, but at least they could have figured out what parts they needed together.

“Just keep looking busy,”  the Nautolan next to her hissed.  Euli looked over at her and watched as her large eyes glanced to the foreman—a short, bald human—weaving his way through the aisles of workstations to inspect the assemblies.

She took it apart and started over again, having forgotten which step she left off on.  A month in and she was still the slowest.  Even the people who had arrived after her (and there were transports arriving at precisely the same time every week to drop off fresh slaves) had a better grasp on the mind-numbing process.

By the time the foreman made his way around, Euli had finished her rifle.  The Nautolan had done three.  When he paused three sections down from them, she shoved one of her rifles into Euli’s space.  Euli just stared at her until the there was a bald head next to her shoulder making disappointed grunts.

“Not your usual speed today, FW-2352.”

“Chipped a claw.  I’m sorry, sir.  I’ll do better.”

The foreman let out a loud noise of disapproval, but nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer.  He turned to Euli’s workspace and then looked behind her at the crate where she was supposed to put finished units.  “Still faster than FW-5741.”

It was all Euli could do to sit there even-faced with her fists balled in her lap.  She was making weapons for their enemy.  For the people who murdered her nephew and so many others.  He was standing so close, too, with his greasy fringe of hair on the sides of his head and the scowling look of judgment as he surveyed her workspace.  _Collaborator_ was the word Poe had used.  And over these weeks, Euli had taken note of them—huddled around each other in the yard, laughing while everyone else was just trying to make it through another day.  They slept in a separate bunkhouse, but they ate the same as the rest of them.  The anger was rising in her chest, or maybe it was her stomach again.  It was bubbling and uncomfortable and—

“What’s this?”  A sausage-like finger reached out and pushed a small, silver spring across the table.  “Isn’t this part of the firing mechanism?  How stupid are you?”

Her jaw worked uncomfortably as she tried to find an answer—an answer that wasn’t the truth or sarcastic or her fist in his round face.  She needed the spring for other reasons, the fact that the rifle wouldn’t fire correctly was just the bonus.

“Perhaps it was an extra piece?  I can double check these if you like, sir?”

There was a sort of growl this time with his aggravated grunting noises.  “An acceptable solution, FW-2352, but you’ll both stay after to make up what you missed.  And you,”  he said, jabbing that fat finger far too close to Euli’s face.  “Another screw up like that and you’ll be science.”

Euli frowned after him as he waddled away.  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the anger—indigestion?—dwindled down.  She grumbled something that sounded like a thank you, and then she turned slightly towards the Nautolan.  “What did he mean by that?”

Her dark skin seemed to pale at the question, and that she had to be the one to answer it.  A couple of the tentacles on her head twitched slightly.  “Those who aren’t useful are sent away.  Rumor is that they’re used as test subjects for new weapons, and other things.”

Euli was fairly certain she must have paled as well.  She had seen some people leave and hadn’t really thought about where they had gone.  Another job, another camp, she didn’t really care, but to know they were being taken away and used like that put a different sort of weight to the departures.

With the Nautolan’s help, they picked up the pace and Euli didn’t try to steal another part that day.  She’d try again another time, when she could find a way to be more discreet.  It wasn’t much longer after the rest of workers had left that they finally made it out.  They were barely out of the building when Euli felt that roll in her stomach again.  She had gotten used to the constant nauseous feeling, figuring it to be the awful food and general poor living conditions, but this came on suddenly and she lost the contents of her stomach, barely missing the Nautolan’s legs.

She gasped and ushered Euli to the side of the building, trying to shield her away from anyone who might glance over.  “Are you all right?”

Euli coughed and gasped and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.  “Yeah.  This place doesn’t agree with me.”

“No…”  She didn’t explain further what she meant, but shuffled Euli along the wall, pointedly avoiding any other being.  “You can’t let anyone know that you’re sick.”

“Yeah, I figured that makes me a science.”  Euli stopped walking and pressed her back up against the building to rest.  “I need to get back to the yard before the miner transport gets back.”

“Your mate works in the mines?  It’s odd, you know.  That you are still together.  Usually they break up families.”

“Just lucky I suppose.”  Though Euli had the feeling luck didn’t have much to do with it.  The Force might have kicked her around an awful lot, but it seemed it would keep looking out for Poe.  And that was fine.  She would wholeheartedly accept that.

“Does he know?”

Euli cocked an eyebrow slightly at the woman, unsure what she was getting at.  “Does he know what?  That I’m totally incompetent when it comes to tedious tasks better suited to a droid?”

But the Nautolan’s tentacles twitched and her big eyes looked like they were trying to see straight through her.  It wasn’t the Force, but something else—something biological that she was doing.  “I can’t believe you don’t know.”  She was shocked?  It was hard to tell.

“Whoa!  Hey!”  Euli smacked her hand away as it darted in to press at her stomach—actually, a bit too low to be her stomach.

“I was a doctor before I was a slave.”

“Oh.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“I was a pilot.”

She offered a small, friendly smile.  “May I?  Please?  It’s a bit hard to do standing up, but my clinic is closed for the foreseeable future.”

Euli nodded and let the woman prod at her.  Clawed fingers pressed gently into her abdomen, lower and lower while she hummed to herself.  The smile was gone as she worked.  Euli thought she looked rather sad after a moment and Euli became apprehensive as to what this doctor turned factory slave had found.

“Six weeks, I think.  Does that sound about right?”

“For…?”

“What’s your name?”

“Avedis.”

The Nautolan took her hands and squeezed them.  She opened her mouth to speak, but then cast a glance around them first, making sure they were still out of earshot of anyone.  “Avedis, you’re pregnant.”

“No.”

“It’s not really a debate.”

It was as if a part of her brain had shut off.  The part which tried to make any sense of the world around her was completely broken.  Such a thing wasn’t possible—well, it was, in the most literal of sense, but it was a complication they couldn’t afford.  And then suddenly it restarted and a piece clicked into place with a gasp.

“It’s Poe’s.”  She didn’t even realize she had said his name, his real name, out loud.  It was something they had done together.  Something that had happened the night he believed her, forgave her, and made her believe in him.

The Nautolan didn’t mention her slip, just nodded and gave her a sad smile.  “I’m sorry, Avedis.”

“For what?”

“Have you seen any children here?  Any at all?”

No, she hadn’t.  All of the prisoners were adults.  The youngest she had seen was a Gossamer boy who was probably sixteen at the very least.  She remembered with another sick feeling in her stomach they separated families.  “Where are they?”

But the Nautolan just shrugged.  All of a sudden, there was a definitive time limit on the escape plan.  They couldn’t wait around for the Resistance to maybe rescue them.

“You need to eat.  Even if it tastes awful.  Even if it makes you sick.”  She squeezed Euli’s hands again.

“Thank you,”  Euli said softly as she looked down at their hands, having forgotten they were still grasped together.  “What do I call you?  And not that number they gave us.”

“Nadja.”

 

~*~

 

The bathhouse was a water-sonic hybrid.  It was a facility they only got to use once a week on a rotation.  They used it to wash their jumpsuits as well—for all the good that did.  It was the smell that never really went away.  At least the itch was gone for a day or two, but it always came back.  Poe was used to starfighter funk—days journeys inside a stale cockpit, but this was a whole different level of filth.

As Poe combed the powdery soap through his hair, he watched as Euli rubbed the jumpsuits against the tiles of the bathhouse.  Her muscles flexed under her bare skin, splattered with droplets of dirty water.  Even in all of this, the sight of her still made him smile.  Her matted hair, hidden behind a torn off sleeve, he still found charming.  Her skin, rough with dirt that even the day’s wash hadn’t gotten rid of, still somehow held a glow that he just wanted to reach out and touch all over.

She was intently scrubbing a particularly difficult stain when she glanced over and caught him staring instead of rinsing the soap out of his hair.  She looked lost in a thought for a moment, but then quirked an eyebrow at him and smirked, her eyes just glancing down his body and then back up before returning to her task.

“Oi, Yeb!  It’s tacky to ogle your own wife!”  Someone on the other side of him yelled out and garnered a few laughs from the others in the bathhouse.

For just a second, Poe had forgotten there were dozens of other naked bodies in here with them.  They had all gotten over any modesty early on and tried to enjoy the at least attempt to be clean.  The rattling of a baton against the door, reminding them their time was nearly up, pulled him out of his thoughts.  Everyone rushed to enjoy the last few seconds of water and sonic—quick rinses and last ditch efforts to get the dirt off.  A buzzer sounded and everything shut down.

Euli handed him his jumpsuit and they both quickly slipped on their still-damp and only slightly-cleaner outfit.  As he zipped his up, her brow furrowed and her hand rubbed across his face, trying to flick some of the soap residue still stuck in his beard.  “Wonder if they’d chance giving us razors.”

“What?  You don’t like it?”  He’d caught a glimpse in the shiny metal side of a transport a few days ago.  Poe was used to the quick rate at which his facial hair grew, but he was also used to being able to do something about it.  Now, it was a knotted, irritating mess on his face.

“Maybe cleaned up a bit.”  The corner of her lips quirked slightly, but her eyes still had a funny, far-off look.

“You doing okay, sweetheart?”  Poe asked once most of the others had cleared out of the showers.

She opened her mouth to answer, but another slam of the baton against the door told them it was time to leave the facilities, _now_.

“I’m going to take a nap,”  she told him as they made their way towards the exit.  It was a bit odd coming from her—the woman who found it hard to sit still without a task occupying her thoughts, who battled sleep in any form—but she had been tired more and more lately.  Poe wondered if it was the work, or just the anxiety of the situation, or if something else was bothering her.

“I’m gonna stay out in the sun for a bit and try to dry out.”

She nodded.  “You want…?”

“I’ve got my winning personality.  I think I’ll be okay.”  He chuckled at the offer of her toothbrush weapon as they left the building.  He gave the stormtrooper ushering them out a small nod.  Despite their circumstances, he couldn’t help think of Finn every time he saw one of them.  He wondered if there were others behind those masks that felt the same, who just hadn’t had the opportunity to take the chance and defect.  He gave Euli’s arm a small squeeze before she headed off towards their bunkhouse.

Poe watched her walk away until a familiar presence came up beside him.  Three of them, actually.  “She letting you run free today?”

“Just this once.”  Poe turned, hands resting on his hips.  Relaxed, casual.  “What can I do for you, Governor?”

He chuckled and nodded, his hands going into his pockets.  “Used to be.  Couldn’t salute to Hux fast enough and ended up in this place.  Think it was a long time coming—he already had the replacement government picked out.”

“So what’s your plan then?”

There was a smirk on his face as he looked back towards Poe.  “You with the Republic?”

“Nope.”

“Don’t tell me the Resistance sent you.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

There was something about him.  Perhaps it was the almost too cool demeanor.  Even with his lookouts (Poe could hardly call them bodyguards), he seemed unfazed by his surroundings.  As if the indentured servitude was merely a pit stop along the way.  Perhaps he had just gotten really good at hiding the exhaustion and dread.  Either way, Poe wasn’t ready to completely trust him quite yet.

“I’ll say it again: I think we can help each other.  We both want the same thing.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes cast side to side, not dramatically, but not exactly on the sly either.  “Getting out of here.  Out of bondage and back to real life.”

“If you’ve got a plan, I’m ready to hear it, Governor.”

“You and the little woman aren’t so quiet.  We know you’ve got ideas to try and build a communication device.  If you get it built, I know a way to tie it into the satellite and get a message out.”

At that point, Poe was definitely all ears.  It was the sort of break they desperately needed.  He’d spent every spare minute walking the grounds trying to decide if slowly digging a hole they’d never hope to hide into the main cable or scaling a sheer building was the best course of action.  “Okay, consider me interested.”

“Who you planning to call?”

“Friends.”  If it was a test, Poe knew he’d fail it.  He wasn’t ready to divulge all their secrets.

“Fair enough.”  He nodded, looking only slightly disappointed and not yet losing his smug demeanor.  “Can’t keep it in committee forever.”

Euli found him later as they stood in line for the evening meal.  Usually, they stayed in the yard and made small talk with some of the other prisoners, watched the guard movements, or counted the ships they could see in the docks.  Today, however, Euli pulled him back towards the bunkhouse after they’d gotten their bowls of paste.  They hardly had a moment alone—there was always someone around; they slept in an unpartitioned building with a hundred other people.  Not to mention sneaking off for a private conversation caused suspicion among the other prisoners and if a guard caught them, they would be forcibly and unkindly returned to where they were supposed to be.

“We have a complication.”  She looked unsettled as she glanced about cautiously, making sure no one was around to eavesdrop.

He took the bowl from trembling fingers and set them both on the ground.  Poe reached out and placed a hand on her cheek.  “Whatever it is, we can handle it.”  Her face pressed into his hand and she frowned—almost looked like she would cry.  He quickly gathered her up into his arms and held her tightly before she came apart in front of him.  “We’re gonna be okay.  I promise.”

“Poe.”  His name was barely a whisper against his ear.  She clutched onto him so tightly he didn’t dare try to pull away.  There was a breath and a gasp, a hesitation, and then:  “I’m pregnant.”

It was as if a building had collapsed on top of him.  He had gone to bed very sure of the man that he was, and woken up someone entirely different.  Shock, and then seconds later, elation.  He squeezed her even tighter and laughed.  He could feel the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he pressed his lips against her hair and her face and finally her lips.

“We weren’t careful.”  He laughed again and kissed her again.

“Nothing we’ve ever done has been careful.”  Finally, she gave him a laugh—small and shaky.

As her hands reached up and wiped away the tears that had slipped down her cheeks, his hands moved down to her abdomen.  There was no bump to indicate something was there.  In fact, she looked thinner than she ever had—something that would have to be remedied.  Of course, now how sick and tired she’d felt since they arrived here made so much more sense.  With yet another laugh, he picked up the bowls off the ground and shoved them both at her.  “I know it tastes like dirt, but you have to eat.”

She refused, of course, insisted that he had to eat to keep his strength up.  Poe compromised by eating half of it and handed her the rest.  They didn’t speak more about it, just rejoined the rest of the yard before anyone was suspicious of their absence.  That night, curled close together in their bunk, Poe kept his hand inside her jumpsuit, under her shirt, just over where their baby was growing.

“What do you think—Shara if it’s a girl?  Or Leia?  Poe Junior if it’s a boy?”

Euli was quiet for a moment, her fingers drawing lazy circles on his hand on her stomach.  “No.  I don’t want them to think they have to live up to that.  I don’t want them to ever have to fight this war.”

Poe let out a long exhale and squeezed her in close.  He understood that, more than anyone.  And suddenly, he knew just what his father must have felt the day he left for the Republic Academy.  Knew the heartache he must have gone through when he threw that away to join the Resistance, and when he’d shown up from Jakku half-dead.  Poe didn’t want that for his child.  They needed to win this war; put the First Order, and anyone else like them down, for good.  Never to send more sons and daughters to fight and die in this same conflict.

“Is that all right?”  she asked quietly, almost as if she were afraid she had offended him by not wanting to use his mother’s name.

“Of course, sweetheart.”  He kissed the side of her head softly.  “You’re right; they should have their own name.  Find their own path in life.”

“We need to find a way out soon.”

“Yeah.”  Poe sighed again and settled back into the mattress.  They were racing the clock now, even more than before.  “Might have to make some friends.”

He got a grunt in response, but she knew the weight of this.  The sooner they got out of here, the better—for all three of them.


	20. La Batalla Final

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mild descriptions of graphic violence.

**First Order Resettlement Camp**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

Euli knew when the Sith had left the planet.  He had been gone for weeks and it had felt like the vice around her throat had finally been released.  She also had started to feel a bit better—not as sick or tired, and ate more than her share.  She ate a quarter of Poe’s portions, sometimes as much as half as he would insist he wasn’t as hungry.  Though, she could see his features thinning out.  His hair was long, scraggly, and graying.  His muscles were firm with the intense labor of the mines, but his skin seemed to hang off his bones, having lost the extra padding of full and frequent meals.

His smiles still came easy though, as they were now as he waved to her before he got onto the transport.  He still had hope.  Still believed the Resistance would come, or that they could get a message out.  Or maybe the war had been won while they were being layabouts on this luxury vacation and it was only a matter of time before their chauffeur showed up.

Euli tried.  For him, she tried.

Nadja had told her she was in the second trimester now—the easiest of the three.  But she would start to show soon.  It would only get harder to hide.  Poe told her they still needed a few more pieces to get the device to work.  They had made “friends” with the Governor.  Well, Poe had.  Euli had sat silently nearby and glowered at him.  The tradeoff being that one of his faithful had a job doing janitorial work inside the main buildings.  If they gave his girl the device, she’d attach it to a console.  Just for a second, and it would transmit the series of numbers.  An old Alliance clearance code—the Princess would know who it came from—and their location.  Well, an approximation of location.  General vicinity.

With the passing months and the slight changes in solar declination, the air blew cooler and the nights drew longer.  After dinner, before the evening tone sounded forcing them all back into the bunkhouses, Euli would stare up at the stars and try to guess at their location.  Even after they’d gone in for the night, she didn’t stop staring up at the stars, as if she was trying to will a rescue to come.  She’d narrowed it down to the Mid-Rim and was almost certain of the sector.  As for planet, or even system, there were several habitable worlds in this section of space.  In the end, it didn’t matter if their broadcast only gave an approximation, she couldn’t pinpoint their exact celestial location anyway.

“Count ‘em all yet?”  Came a voice from the shadows.  It was late now, nearly everyone else was asleep.

Euli looked away from the small window in the door to see the old man with the stringy grey hair and matching beard, the alleged former Governor, leaning up against one of the bed frames.  She still didn’t trust him, even though Poe did.  But even Poe still didn’t trust him with their biggest secret yet, and though there had been some speculative questions, no one had outright accused them of being Resistance.  Politicians, she’d warned him, they were all the same.

She turned back towards the window.  “Donadus, was it?  Can you point it out for me?  It’s Mid-Rim, right?”

“Inner,”  he corrected.  “Wrong season for it.”

“Ah.”  Euli nodded slightly.  It was a lazy test, but she had a small hope to catch him in an easy lie.  Donadus had been an Imperial holding and was a later addition to the New Republic.  Likely a First Order planet now, which was why he was here—supposedly.

“I’m guessing you two have seen some action.”

Her head turned sharply towards him, her eyes narrowing.  As if reading her aggressive response, he jerked his head to the side, off to where Poe and Euli slept at the top, next to the wall.  “The nightmares happen often enough.  From both of you.”

Euli continued her glower.  Of all the terrible things about this place, the worst was the lack of privacy.  It was a wonder they’d managed to keep any secrets.  Poe’s real name was still unknown, as was what they had been doing before they’d arrived here.  The pregnancy she fought to keep between them, and Nadja, but she couldn’t be sure that someone hadn’t overheard.  And if they didn’t get out soon, it would become obvious.  Any longer and more of the pieces would come together.

“You’re not going to comfort him?”

They could hear the creak in the metal frame as Poe’s limbs jerked about.  Faintly, they could hear his grunts of pain.  Thankfully, most of their bunkmates were too exhausted to be woken up by it.

“No,”  she said quietly.  “I am what he’s fighting in there.”  A slip as the emotion choked her good sense.  It was too much information to divulge.  Too intimate.  Too personal.  “What are your nightmares of, Governor?”

In the deep shadows she heard the amused scoff, almost a laugh.  She couldn’t see his smug grin, but she knew it was there.  “Oh, the usual.  Being thrown in the pen that brought me to this place with a hundred other bodies.  Not being able to leave.  Dying in the mines.  And you, what haunts your dreams, girl?”

Euli gave one last glance to the moons and the stars before walking past the old man.  She wanted to see his face when she said it—told him the terrible things she had done that would always haunt her.  Perhaps he would assume that her nightmares somehow were connected to Poe’s, that they weren’t two contained events separated by decades.

“I walk in a field soaked in the blood of the people I’ve murdered.”

His smug grin faded away, but other than that, he looked unfazed by her admission.  He was quiet for a moment before stating,  “Of all the people in this prison, I think you’re the only one that actually deserves to be here.”

“Remember that if you try to double-cross us,”  she told him as she headed back to her bunk.

 

~*~

 

When Rey closed her eyes and saw the Force, she saw a river.  A channel of water she had both always known and never seen.  It cut through the galaxy and yet somehow wound through and around everything in existence.  Through her, through Luke, through Finn, and the monster at their heels.

They had fought on the cliffs of Ahch-to.  The _Falcon_ bore scars from the cannons of his fighter.  For a time, they had masked their presence in the Force, but always he managed to find her.

She was stronger now—stronger than she had been on Ahch-to, stronger than on the snow fields of Starkiller, and far stronger than on Jakku.  She could see the rapids in the river, the crests and the shallows.  She saw the little fish being pulled along with the current and those fighting desperately to swim upstream.  The pebbles were like little worlds all existing in their own ecosystems—all moving with the will of the Force.  Surrounded.  Enveloped.

“Do we have free will?”  Rey voiced the question aloud again for what must have been the hundredth time.  The first time she had asked it was to a woman who seemed trapped by an unwanted destiny—a feeling of which she was intimately familiar.  She had asked the question again several times—to Luke, to herself, to the void.  Never with a satisfactory response.

Luke’s answers were noncommittal, though Rey could tell he wanted to tell her yes.  That this was all a choice.  The choice whether or not to find him, to learn.  The choice to fight against evil or to choose anger and selfishness like his former student.  But he could never answer if those were truly choices, or if that was the Force’s plan all along.  No one had those answers.  It seemed silly to keep asking.  Yet, she did.

“What brings up this question again?”  Luke asked as he rested in the co-pilot seat of the _Falcon_.

“Trouble.”  The single word left her lips in a mumble.

For days it had been growing in the corner of her mind and the bottom of her gut.  The anticipation, the dread.  People she knew, dared to called friends, people she cared about—they were in danger.  Or soon to be.  It was hard to tell.

When she glanced over at her teacher, he was sitting, leaning to the side, his head resting in his hand.  He had the small, smug grin on his face that he often got when he would get lost in an old memory.  Sometimes, he’d tell her the story, but usually he’d let her figure out the lesson on her own.

“How do I know which is the right choice?  Do we keep going on our own mission, or—Poe’s in trouble.  I can almost see it.”

Luke took a large breath of air and let it out in one, long sigh as he readjusted himself on the worn seat.  “So many different people have had so many different thoughts.  Whether to walk the path of the most righteous—to always err on the side of the greater good.  Or to live free and move with the flow of the Force.  Or to seize it by the throat and own it how they saw fit.”

“That’s not an answer.”  But this was how their conversations often went.  He would answer questions with questions or just spit back what she had already told him.  “How do I know if I’m following what the Force wants, or my own selfishness?  What if helping my friends leads to something worse?”

Luke’s hands rose slightly up and his shoulders shrugged.  His head ducked into his cloak and he chuckled lightly.  Rey didn’t think it was such a laughing matter.  Her short nails dug into her scalp as she scratched her head in frustration.  Her hands moved and hovered over the controls.

If there was one thing she had learned about herself through these past months, it was that the Force had always been with her.  She had good instincts, quick reflexes—things she now knew were threads extending beyond her physical being.  There was something tugging her towards the danger—to where she was needed.  She wanted to trust it.

The old freighter slipped out of hyperspace and with a few course corrections, was quickly gone again.

“You made this choice, too, once.”

Luke nodded as he leaned back again in his chair, his eyes closed, smile once again playing on his lips.  He didn’t answer, but Rey found that she didn’t need one.

 

~*~

 

The air blew colder down the mountain and with it flakes of snow would sometimes dust the camp in the mornings.  Thankfully, it didn’t stick around, but it was still quite unpleasant for the populace that had very little clothing to begin with.  The First Order, in their generosity, had handed out knit caps.  Some wore tattered blankets and sheets as shawls to combat the cold, or the jumpers of those who had gone and left their meager belongings behind to be fought over.

Poe had managed to wrest a larger size from a Duros intent on having some extra scraps of fabric in exchange for two fresh toothbrushes.  Poe and Euli forewent dental hygiene for the chance to hide her growing belly.  It still wasn’t much, but it was less obvious in the roomier jumpsuit.

Usually, they only called yard assemblies when there were new arrivals, at precisely the same time every week, but they were all gathered in the courtyard that morning and there had just been an influx the previous day.  Of course, it had to be _that_ morning—the one where they had finally planned to install their rudimentary, but completed, locator beacon into the comm center.  Poe had finished it in the early hours of the morning and kept it safely tucked in his pocket.  He was going to give it to the Governor to give to one of his lackeys who cleaned the ‘freshers in the main building.  She’d tuck it into one of the circuit boxes—they’d been specific which one—and it’d send out one small, miniscule, undetectable burst of data.

Within a week, they could be free.  A surgical strike on the compound—in and out.  They’d come back and free everyone else later.  Shut down all of these horrible work camps for good.  Cut off the First Order’s supply lines.  Poe was already choreographing the missions in his head.

He clung onto that strand of hope.  Wrapped it around his fingers and held on for all it was worth.

The assembly, though, that could be a kink in the plan.  But then with the massive crowd in the yard, including those not yet used to the general order of things here, it would be possible to pass around their bit of contraband.  And it was—Poe spotted the Governor on the far side who gave him a single nod.  Poe squeezed Euli’s elbow gently before cautiously making his way through the crowd.  He slipped from one line to the next, carefully avoiding the gaze of the few troopers skirting the edges.  The package exchanged hands without anyone’s notice, and Poe couldn’t tell when it changed to another lackey and then to the cleaning girl.

“What’s all this?”  Poe asked as they stood there hugging their arms around themselves for warmth.

“Don’t know,”  the older man replied.

They didn’t chat anymore.  Poe could feel it, the shift in the air.  It seemed the Knight of Ren had returned.  Poe’s eyes sought Euli over the crush of the crowd and barely caught a glance of her standing stock still next to her friend Nadja, the former surgeon.  The Knight paced the raised platform, his black robes billowing the cold wind.  Every time he turned to pace back the other way, his lance twirled with a flourish.  Snowflakes sizzled on the pulsing red energy at the end.

As always, the Knight was simply there for intimidation.  Ensuring the confused masses would remain quiet and docile.  The woman in the uniform, the one who addressed the crowds on the influx days in her screeching, angry voice, strode onto the dais.  In her hand was a black crop that she made sure to jerk forward with every march of her feet.  Poe had not seen it before, but some of the others in the crowd obviously had.  People around him shuffled nervously, ducked their heads.  He glanced towards the Governor, but the man didn’t offer him anything more than a grim look.

“There is a deficiency in our factories!”  the woman shouted to the crowds.  She marched the perimeter of the platform, making sure to stare down all sections of the prisoners around her.  “You!  Come up here.”

Poe held his breath, ready to push his way through the crowd if need be.  He couldn’t see where she was pointing, though she was looking in the section that Euli was standing in.  He let the breath out as he watched one of the other miners called up onto the stage.  The crowds all let out a collective gasp as the woman pulled up a rifle and aimed it at the prisoner.  It seemed that while they had accepted this would be some sort of barbaric display of punishment, a wave of fear swept over the crowd at the realization that this would be an execution.

When she pulled the trigger, nothing happened.  Some in the crowd let out another gasp, but others were waiting for the next shoe to fall.

“This rifle, manufactured at this camp, is missing a firing spring and an E-7 resistor!  These mistakes harm our war effort!  Make it more difficult to protect the galaxy from the rebel terrorists!  Make it take longer for you all to be able to go home!  Who will pay for this mistake?!”

“They know who made that weapon,”  the Governor whispered to Poe.

But that was information Poe already had.  This was all posturing, getting them to distrust each other, turn on each other.  He’d turn himself in—take whatever punishment they had in mind.  “I can’t let them do this,”  Poe growled, but the Governor’s fist was wrapped tightly around his arm, trying to keep him in place.

“It’s only a few lashings, Yeb.  It’ll sting, but better than making a scene.”

“She’s pregnant,”  Poe hissed to the other man, trying to keep his voice low in the quiet crowd.

The Governor’s frown deepened at the admission.  “That’s… unfortunate.”

Poe nearly surged forward, nearly shouted that it was his fault.  Even though he didn’t work in the weapon’s factory, he was just a miner—he would take the punishment.  He almost got the first word out of his mouth, too, but someone beat him to it.

“It’s my fault, General,”  the Nautolan doctor’s voice rang out amidst the sea of dirty jumpsuits.  “I must have rushed through that one and I apologize.  I will take the punishment.”

Even from across the yard, Poe could see her trembling and Euli’s hand wrapped around hers as she pulled away and walked towards the platform.  The test dummy miner quickly rushed off the stage as Nadja walked up the steps.

Poe watched as Euli looked on horrified at what was about to happen.  He begged the Force to make her look at him and not her friend.  None of them needed to see this—the horrors of this camp and the First Order on full display.  Euli’s eyes caught his for a second, and then looked back.  He saw it—saw her guilt.

They made her strip down to her waist, exposing her back to the woman, this First Order slaver.  Nadja crossed her arms over her chest, as if to cling to one last shred of modesty.  Her claws dug into her arms and her eyes squeezed shut.

With the first strike, Nadja bit her lip and the crowds cringed, but didn’t make a peep.  The second drew out a gasp of a cry that she nearly managed to swallow back.  The third a sob.  The crowd continued to look on in silence.  Poe bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.  This couldn’t stand.  They had to be stopped.

“This was not the only rifle to have a deficiency.  Several shipments over the past few months have shown a significant increase in missing parts and poor craftsmanship.”

Another strike.  This time, the crowds began to whisper.  Usually, they stopped at three.

“We have given you a safe place to live!  Purpose!  Yet you continue to try and subvert _order_!”

Nadja had fallen to the ground, writhing in pain as the blows kept coming.  Every word the woman screamed were punctuated with a strike.  Her skin had split open on her back; she had screamed and cried, but it didn’t stop.  Poe started to push through the crowds, to try and make it to the other side.  He could feel it in the air—he had to get to Euli before something terrible happened.  Well, another terrible thing.

“And then we have this.”  The strikes paused as the General reached into her pocket and pulled out a rudimentary piece of cobbled together circuitry.  Poe couldn’t see it, but he knew instantly what it was.  His heart fell into his feet as he felt hope die; as he watched their beacon crushed in her gloved hand.

Poe turned around and searched for the Governor, but the crowd had become fearful and restless in the turn of events.  The Governor had vanished into what was now a sea of churning grey bodies.

When the strikes started again, he heard Euli scream.  Loud and clear like the horn of a ship’s klaxon.  And he felt it, the hum in the air as the wave of energy crested over the crowd.   It felt like everything began to move in slow motion—perhaps, that was the only way his mind could process it.

Nadja was unmoving in a bloody pool on the wooden stage.  The repeated blows had flayed her skin deep enough to display muscle and bone.  If not dead yet, she was near to her last breath.

Nearby, the First Order General had been thrown to the floor.  Her legs and arms flailed as if trying to fight some unseen enemy.  Boards creaked and cracked under her, or perhaps it was her bones, as the phantom crushed her into the stage.  Cold fear and dread licked at Poe’s mind as he watched and knew where this particular carnage was coming from.

The Knight flourished his blade again and scanned the crowd.  He would easily hone in on the source of the disturbance.  If the screaming didn’t give it away, then the outstretched hand and the trembling air around her certainly would.

Troopers were pressing through the crowds, trying to fix the sudden disorder.  With the beating-turned-execution and the abrupt, unexpected assault on their warden, the crowds had abandoned their uniform lines and began surging, trying to find an escape.  Poe took the opportunity slipped behind one of the stormtroopers.  He jammed his elbow up under a trooper’s helmet, dislodging it.  Another centered punch on the back of the soldier’s head knocked him to the ground and Poe took charge of the man’s rifle.  With a quick prayer that this wasn’t one of the deficient ones, he took aim at the Knight and fired.

Poe was surprised when the shot took out a building.

 

~*~

 

“It’s been a long time since I sat in this seat!”  Luke practically howled with laughter.  Rey could hear over the comm the clank-clank of the gunner’s seat as it swiveled back and forth.

Chewbacca roared with victory from the cockpit as the _Millennium Falcon_ banked around and took another low pass over the crowds.

“Just a bit lower,”  Rey said to herself.  Knees bouncing, she clutched the old weapon in her hand, feeling the grooves of the metal under her fingers.  With the first breath she found the river of light and with the second she leapt into it—followed it down, rode it to the ground.

The wood splintered under her when her feet and knee hit the platform.  She only had a second to take in the chaos around her: the crowds pushing each other in an attempt to flee.  Some of the prisoners had begun fighting the stormtroopers.  There were two dead women on the platform with her along with the Knight of Ren whose snarl she could feel.  The brilliant blue blade erupted from the weapon in her hand as she rose to her feet.

“Kylo Ren will reward me when I bring him your head, _scavenger_.”  He twirled the lance in his hand before bringing it in front of him, ready to strike.

“You two should probably talk more,”  Rey muttered to herself before lunging at the Knight.

 

~*~

 

There’s a hole and it used to be filled with restraint and compassion and hope, but war and grief and bad decisions along the way had emptied it of those things.  In that moment, hatred and anger spilled in.  It fueled her and bridged the broken pieces of string that had once been living connections.

It created the invisible mallet that slammed the First Order officer into the platform.  It was the weight that pressed down on her body until her ribs pierced her lungs and she drowned in her own blood.  But that sort of power, it could only harm.  It would never heal.

Euli continued screaming, cold tears spilling down her face as she cried out for her friend.  Her beautiful, luminous light had gone out.  Another life lost to the eternal conflict.

She barely noticed the explosion behind her and the factory now on fire.  Or the people yelling and pushing around her.  Blaster fire rang out from the troopers and from people who had managed to steal weapons.  It was a prison riot, a resistance—the sort of distraction they needed to finally make their escape.  The mask that had been trained on her and her sudden outburst of power was now fixed on a new target in the fray.  Again, the fact that _Rey_ was here, that someone had come to _save them_ , didn’t even register.

It wasn’t until a pair of arms grabbed onto her and started shaking her that she let go of the tide of energy she had somehow been holding in place.  Blackness began to creep into her vision and her limbs felt heavy; her muscles weak.

“Thought you were made of stronger stuff than that, Avedis.  Don’t tell me a little riot makes you swoon.”  An arm wrapped around her middle and kept her from falling to the ground.

“U’Kari?  What are you—?”  The words came out slurred and barely formed, but the Zeltron spy shook her again.

“My plan was a surgical extraction, but with Dameron it always has to be flashy, doesn’t it?”

Pascia was pulling Euli back, away from where Rey and the Knight were exchanging blows, trying to thread her way through the crowds.  At the mention of his name, however, Euli gripped the arm holding her and tried to pull away.  “Poe.  I have to find Poe!”

“He sees us.  He’s headed this way.”

It felt like the minutes crawled by as Poe fought his way towards them.  He shot at the troopers that had begun spilling in from other parts of the camp, helped prisoners that had fallen to the ground to their feet so they wouldn’t be trampled, even paused to relay a shouted message that someone had broken open crates of blasters waiting to be loaded onto a transport.  It didn’t help that Pascia kept pulling her further and further away.

A warning siren started to sound along with an automated voice ordering prisoners back to their bunkhouses.  Euli flinched backwards as a burning piece of debris flew past them and a ship soared low overhead again.  Pascia thrust her down behind a large piece of crushed stone wall as she pulled a second blaster from her hip and took out two troopers that had started to chase after them.

“Hey—hey, stay with me, sweetheart.”

When her eyes opened, she saw Poe.  Her vision was hazy, but she could see he had a blood smeared on his face and a tear in jumpsuit.  Other than that, he looked mostly whole.  Poe’s hand brushed across her face and down across her front, looking for any obvious injuries.  His eyes kept darting back up, checking for hostiles.

“Told you we’d get out of here,”  he said, grinning.

“We’re not out yet, Commander,”  Pascia said, taking the words right out of Euli’s mouth.

“You guys together or is this a happy accident?”  Poe asked.  “Who’s got the escape plan?”

“Right now it’s a useful distraction.  I have a freighter parked under a stealth net a few klicks away.”

“Good.  Take Euli and get out of here.”

“No!”  Euli’s fist squeezed around his arm and wouldn’t let him go.  She used all the strength she had left to try and hold onto him.  She couldn’t lose him again.  “You have to come with us!”

“They’re fighting back, Euli.  I can’t abandon them.  We’re going to push towards the docks and get everyone on the cargo ships before reinforcements get here.”

“No!”  she shouted again.  It wasn’t right; it wasn’t fair.  None of these people lifted a finger to help them.  The only one who helped in their plan had turned against them.  The rest were all content to be treated like animals.  No one had ever dared to fight back, not until the world was literally on fire around them.  Euli didn’t want to give him up, not for them.

“Hey—“  Poe pushed his hands against her face, wiping away the stray tears that had started to fall.  “You gotta go and take your chance, okay?  Your job is to take care of that baby.  Don’t wait for me—Pascia’s going to get you to the fleet and I’ll find you there.”

She shook her head, tears falling freely.  She couldn’t help it.  It was as if the stars were screaming at her again.  This was it.   This was goodbye.  He was going to die—or she was.  Euli couldn’t see the light at the end, just the yawning darkness.

“I love you so much.”  Poe pressed his lips to hers for one final, intense kiss.  His forehead rested on hers and his words were whispers, but firm and steady.  “Do everything you can to protect that baby.  Our baby.  I _will_ find you.  I promise.”

Finally, reluctantly, Euli nodded.  He pressed a kiss into his hand and swept it across her stomach as he stood.  With a nod to Pascia, he set back towards the crowd, shouting orders to move towards the docks.

 

~*~

 

Rey gasped as her back hit the side of a building.  She had fought the Knight off of the platform, but he had taken to throwing humanoid projectiles at her.  She retreated, trying to lead him away from the bulk of the crowd, but he took advantage of her momentarily deflecting blaster fire and threw her into one the structures.

She knew she needed to end this quickly.  Their scans of the planet indicated other encampments scattered around the surface.  They had used Han’s trick of coming out of hyperspace in the atmosphere—something Chewbacca had not been keen on doing a second time—and it had bought them a headstart on the reinforcements.  But it wouldn’t be long now.

Rey surged forward again, ignoring the annoying taunts the Knight continued to throw her way.  She feinted left, anticipating his next strike, and then whipped the saber around, striking him across the shoulder.  As he lost his balance, she kicked the back of his knee and drove him to the ground.  His lance flew out of his hand and Rey called it straight into hers.

Rage pooled in her chest—this creature that had tortured these poor people.  Stolen them and forced them to build the First Order’s weapons.  Used fear and violence to keep them all in line.  He didn’t deserve life—none of them did.  If it was the last thing she did, she would see all of Ren’s Knights fall.  On their knees at her feet.

When he looked up at her, through his cartoonish cracked mask, Rey saw a flash of something she did not expect.  The water rushed past her and took a different path.  She saw a boy, happy and then scared.  Full of wonder and then without purpose.  Orphaned and then found.

The saber deactivated and her arm relaxed to her side.  “You think you don’t have a choice in this, but you do.  I will tell you the same thing I told Kylo: if we meet again, I will not offer mercy a second time.”

And because she didn’t trust that his choice would immediately be turning away from the First Order, she knocked him out cold and left him to his fate on the cold ground.  She snapped his lance into two pieces and dropped it onto the ground next to him.

 

~*~

 

“Poe!”  He heard his name shouted across the stampede of bodies that were piling into the transports meant for oversized cargo.  He could make out the three familiar buns maneuvering through the crowd towards him.

“Rey!”  he called back and he waved his blaster rifle around to get people to move out of his way to get to her.  “Good to see you!  Usually I do the flashy rescues though.  You might need to find a different niche.”

“There was a void and I filled it—that’s sort of my niche.”  She grinned, but it was short lived as the scream of TIEs could be heard in the distance.  “Let’s get everyone on board before this becomes not-a-rescue.”

“Good plan.  Except him.”  Poe leveled his rifle at the man approaching.  The man he’d never gotten a name from, but simply took at his word that he would help because he wanted to get out of here just as badly.  “Thought you could buy your way out of here?”

“Can you blame me?”  The former Governor of Donadus still had that smug look on his face.  Didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed for what he’d done.  “Any one of us would have done anything to get out of this hellhole.”

“Not anything.  That’s what separates us from them, and I hope you’re happy with the side you chose.”

“You can’t leave me here, Yeb!”

“Actually, it’s Poe Dameron of the Resistance.”

Poe took a moment to savor the shocked look on the Governor’s face.  His smug superiority, that even Poe was impressed he managed to hold onto, finally fell away.  Maybe he did recognize the name and realized what a prize had been right under their noses the whole time, or maybe it was just because he had been right months ago in guessing that this tenacious stranger was part of the Resistance.  Either way, Poe didn’t care what he thought now.

“What was that all about?”  Rey asked as they walked up the ramp leaving the shocked and fretting old man behind them.

Poe didn’t get a chance to answer; he was stopped by a man splattered with blood holding a large vibroknife.  “Need to cut that out,”  he said, pointing to Poe’s arm.  Poe could see that the man with the knife had a wound on his arm, and looking around, everyone else clutched at similar injuries.

“Of course,”  Poe said, holding out his arm.  The trackers.  They all had to come out.  After it was done, he told the man,  “Find whatever first aid supplies you can.  Make sure none of these get infected.”

“You got it, Yeb.”

“Who’s Yeb?”  Rey asked.  As they walked away, they could hear the crunching of metal as the microchip was crushed under someone’s shoe.

“My mother—sort of—I’ll explain later.”  The ship shuddered as the docks were pelted with cannon fire.  Poe and Rey picked up their pace and rushed towards the bridge.  Poe asked her if she had a way to contact the _Falcon_ and let Chewbacca know she was safe, but Rey just smirked and told him they already knew.  Despite the situation, Poe couldn’t help the swelling of pride in his chest.  That long ago mission, the years spent searching, and here they were.

“Ziven!”  Poe exclaimed and slapped his Twi’lek friend from the mines on the shoulder.

“Knew you’d be leading this party.”  Ziven chuckled.  “I’m not much of a pilot, but I got her started.  Think you can fly this?”

“Don’t ask him that,”  Rey interjected, an amused smirk on her lips.

Poe took over the controls and Rey moved into the co-pilot’s seat.  Ziven and a couple of others who thought they could lend assistance manned the other stations.  The ship didn’t have much for weapons, but the hull was thick and the shields were fully charged.  If they could break atmo and make it to an open section of space, they’d be home free.

As they broke free of the docks, they could see the destruction out of the viewport.  What hadn’t been destroyed by the _Falcon’s_ flybys or the firefight between the prisoners and guards, had been laid to waste by the TIEs.  They hadn’t just gone after the escaping prisoners, but anything moving on the surface.

“Hey, check the scanners!”  Poe snapped his fingers and pointed at the sensor station.  “I need to know if a light freighter is out there.  We need to give it cover.”

There was a long pause as Ziven looked over the data in front of him.  Poe prodded him again, but the Twi’lek just shook his head.  “I don’t see anything.”

“Are they still on the surface?”

“I don’t know.  I can’t see anything—there’s too much interference.”

“Poe, the TIEs are coming back around.  They’re in a pursuit pattern,”  Rey said.  “We need to make a run for it.  Now.”

Poe gritted his teeth as he glanced out across the burning camp below them.  He could open a comm, broad band, hit every ship in range.  If they were out there, they’d hear him, but then every ship in the vicinity would know they were out there, too.  If they were hiding, he’d expose them.  He glanced at Rey, perhaps for guidance or some divine knowledge that everything was going to be okay, but she had her own look of worry.

He’d have to find his own way to trust that the Force would look after her, even if Euli didn’t believe it would.

“Tell everyone to hold on.  It could be a rough ride.”


	21. The Graveyard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with death and grieving. I didn't intend for this to be a part of this story or to even share it. It came out as cathartic word vomit during a bad spell last year, but I liked a lot of it, so I adjusted it to fit into this story. It is very sad.

**Resistance Fleet**

**After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

They made two jumps and stopped in the middle of empty space.  For three hours, the commandeered First Order cargo ship idled while Poe and Rey, and a few of the former prisoners who knew a thing or two about ships, disabled all of the transponders and rewrote all of its port-of-call data.  They even tweaked the hyperdrive so any calculations of potential destinations would always be off.

There were several more jumps where they unloaded people who didn’t wish to continue on to the Resistance.  By the time they were done, only a few dozen remained.  Either there wasn’t a place for them to go back to, or wanted to put their skills to use striking back against the First Order.  Not that Poe was in a position to welcome them into the Resistance, he offered anyway.  Figured what was left of their intelligence office would be able to root out any double agents, especially if Pascia was coming back.

When Poe and Rey first made contact with the Resistance, shortly after escaping, Leia had been ecstatic to see them both.  There were tears in the corners of her eyes as she clasped her hands together and told them how happy she was that they were safe.  Snap, Pava, and other pilots got in on the next communiqué, excitedly talking over each other, telling him he’d have to pull double shifts again to make up for all that vacation time he took.  They also kindly mocked his long hair and beard and the grey streaks.

It took almost two weeks to relocate the prisoners who wanted to leave and to complete the extra jumps to the fleet.  Poe asked if Pascia and Euli had made it back to the fleet yet, but each time the answer was that no one had heard from them.  When they docked with the _Raddus_ , the flagship of the Resistance, they disembarked into a large hangar already waiting with several medics and crates of rations to hand out.  Poe looked out over the various, though few, personnel, but didn’t spot anyone familiar, except for General Organa.

There was a high-pitched squealing that he did recognize, however.  Poe laughed and bent down to rub the round droid that nearly ran him over.  “Beebee-ate!  It’s good to see you, too, buddy!  How you been?  Where’s Finn?  Have you see Euli?  Is she here?”

The droid rolled back slightly, his dome lolling from one side to the other.  He whined a sad sort of beep that didn’t tell Poe anything other than that the General needed to see him.  There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he stood and looked towards Leia.  She was wearing a grey dress similar to the one he had last seen her in, and the expression on her face was still serious, yet soft.

As Poe walked to her, BB-8 at his heels, he noticed her holding a small holo-projector, her fingers idling running around the edges.

“It’s good to see you, Poe.”

“You, too, General.”  But Poe didn’t want to continue with idle pleasantries.  “What’s going on?  Did U’Kari make contact?  Where’s everyone else?”

“The First Order put out a broadcast a few hours ago.  Set it on a wide beam so every satellite and node would pick it up and retransmit it.  It was an execution, Poe.”  She didn’t mince the words, got right to the point.

“ _What_?”  he almost shouted, but then it came out in a strangled whisper.  His hands were in his hair and he felt like pulling it all out as his mind jumped to the worst possible scenario.

“We were only able to confirm the identity of one of the victims.  We’re tracking down all of our agents and contacts to figure out who the others were.  Poe—“

He snatched the device out of her hands.  His fingers shook as he pressed the button to play the recording.

Half a dozen men and women were lined up in front of the projector.  They were dressed in dark clothing with black cowls covering their faces.  There was a voice over in typical First Order fashion decrying the loathsome Resistance as terrorists seeking to destroy order.  In the last moment, bound orange hands reached up and snatched the cloth from her head.  She screamed something, but there was no sound.  It lasted barely a second, whatever message she tried to send.  Blaster fire sprayed across her and the others.  The bodies fell to the floor, lifeless.

No one knew what to say to him.  Not Leia, who had delivered more death notices than anyone could remember.  Who had told countless family members and friends as they wept over fallen soldiers.  Members of the starfighter squadrons filed in after several moments—once excited to come see their missing commander, they walked solemnly by and patted him on the shoulder, squeezed his arm, and promised to kill the bastards that had done this.

Rey, who had raced across the galaxy to find them, who was eager to be back with Finn and Leia and the Resistance, looked at him with sadness and horror.  She wrapped tentative arms around him and rubbed his back and said nothing.  They had known each other for so brief a time, and yet somehow, they were already connected.  It was a shared loss, a shared pain.

It wasn’t until Finn’s arms were around him in a crushing embrace that Poe could feel himself cracking.  He swayed slightly as the first sob escaped his throat, but Finn held on, kept him upright.  Poe’s teeth bit into the leather of the jacket that used to be his as he let out a strangled wail.  He felt Rey’s arms wrap around the both of them and the slight shudder when she, too, started crying.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get there in time,”  Rey whispered.

“I should have just gone out and looked for you myself,”  Finn said.

Poe wanted to tell them it wasn’t their fault—insist it.  He should have done something sooner, fought harder.  He had trusted the wrong people.  He should have never left her—they should have acted sooner, hijacked a ship.  They should have fought against their pirate captors.  He should have made her take the X-Wing out of the system.  If he could go back—hell, if he could go back, he never would have let her leave D’Qar.  Never gone to the Hosnian system.  He never would have given into Kylo Ren, never believed that she could betray him.  Never would have sent her away.  It wasn’t their fault.  It was his.

 

~*~

 

Usually, the General sat in the command center of the large star cruiser.  Today, she had asked him to an office that had been set up for her, even though it was obvious she had rarely used it.  Poe sat in the white leather chair, his shoulders hunched forwards as he rested his elbows on his knees.  He ran a finger over the scar on his left forearm, where the First Order tracker had been cut out.  They were kind of like a tribe now, all the former prisoners with their malnutrition and forearm scars.

Though he hadn’t wanted to do anything except lay down and pretend nothing else existed for awhile, he had a shower, haircut, and shave, and a fresh set of clothes.  Finn and Rey had become his minders, insisting he ate.  BB-8 was constantly at his side, prodding him to move about outside of his quarters.  All of that boundless energy that couldn’t stand to be held in one place had evaporated—followed her off into the stars.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Commander.”  Leia waved a hand at him to keep his seat when he started to stand.  Instead of taking a seat behind the large, empty desk, she pulled another chair out and sat near him.  She reached out and pulled his hand into hers, squeezing it gently.  “I’m so sorry, Poe.”

He could feel the tears once again in the corners of his eyes, but he pushed his lids shut and willed them way.  Leia—he had said something awful to her in anger once.  She had taken him under her wing, been more than just a commanding officer, more than just a friend.  Whether he liked it or not, whether he thought he needed it or not, she had become this mothering presence that he had missed.  Poe had thrown it back at her.  He regretted that almost the instant he had done it.  But like any mother, like _his_ mother, she had forgiven him and welcomed him home.

“We were gonna have a baby.”  The last word came out in a gasp.  The sudden admission robbed him of his composure.  His knee was bouncing involuntarily, his hand clenched around Leia’s, tears slipped freely down his cheeks.  He hadn’t told Finn or Rey or any of his squadmates.  He had wanted to keep that precious memory for himself because saying it out loud meant that it was a path he would never walk.  It was admitting that the dream was over.  There wouldn’t be a baby with brown eyes and dark curls crying in his arms, holding his hand.  A child he would never teach to fly, repair a droid, kick a ball, or dance.  A life he had already planned out would never happen.

“Oh, Poe.”  She pulled him in close, holding onto him as he cried.  Though it was hard, and she could feel the large knot in her throat, she kept herself together.

It stretched on for several minutes until he finally got a hold of himself and wiped his face vigorously with her offered handkerchief.  “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course.”

“Euli’s family, they had a crest.  I wanted it to be part of—“  He couldn’t even say it.  Her memorial?  Funeral?  Another ceremony with no body to bury or burn.

Leia frowned slightly as she listened to him.  “Avedis was a fairly common name.  Do you remember what it looked like?”

Poe did, and he described it in as great a detail he could remember.  He even pulled out a datapad and tried to sketch what he could recall from the carving on her wooden treasure box.

“Did you know?”  Leia asked when he was done.  But Poe just shook his head—he didn’t have any idea what she was asking about.  “This is the crest of House Rist—one of Alderaan’s oldest noble houses.

“Now, I wasn’t one for Court gossip, but I heard a story of one of the Rist families.  An eldest daughter eloped with a man far below her station.  Snubbed her nose at the entire idea of blood-born nobility.”

“Took his name?”  Despite himself, Poe smirked.  Oh, that woman had so many stories about her father, but to hear that she was so much like her mother, it made him smile.  “So, if we were married, that would basically make me an Alderaanian Lord, right?”

Leia gave him a small grin and inclined her head slightly.  “Something like that.”

“Probably why she didn’t tell me.  Knew it would go to my head.”  He sniffed and picked up the datapad, now with the proper symbol pulled from an archive.  “If there was a body, I think she’d like to go home.”

“You should go.  Take your friends.  Leave an offering at the graveyard.  Say goodbye.”  Leia reached out and squeezed his arm.  Poe didn’t want to leave.  He wanted to get in his X-Wing and blow the shit out of every single First Order ship he came across, but she was telling him to go, to grieve, and come back with a clearer head.

He could do that.  For her, he would try.

 

~*~

 

Poe had a dream once about this ship.  There was a story his mother would tell him about the beat up old freighter that took on both Death Stars and escaped with only the dents and scratches it went in with.  Rey had offered to talk him through the modifications, or rather, removal of modifications she and Chewbacca had done.  He told her maybe later, just get out and under way.

“You want to take her out?”  Rey asked him as he stood behind the pilot’s seat, gripping the worn fabric.

Fly **the** _Millennium Falcon_?  How was that even a question?  Why wasn’t he leaping over the seat and gripping the controls in his hands and flipping the Corellian ship in circles?  Instead, he fell into the third seat and let Rey and Finn take the pilot and co-pilot positions.  “Nah, Finn told me what a great pilot you are.  Didn’t really get to see it in that cargo hauler.  Show me what you got.  After this, maybe I’ll put you in an X-Wing.”

She smiled at him and Poe put his hands behind his head and leaned back in the chair.  Despite its age and history, the ship ran smoothly and the jump to hyperspace was made without a shudder.

Finn and Rey didn’t talk much around him.  They tried to make regular small talk, but he rarely engaged back.  He could hear them later—the quiet, sometimes excited conversations, and the laughing.  Once, he’d walked in on them lip-locked with Finn’s hand buried deep in her hair.  She had pulled away so quickly, his finger got caught in one of her buns.  Finn tried to apologize, but Poe forced out a smile and shook his head.  No one needed to stop living their life because his had suddenly hit a wall.  He was happy for them, he really was, and he had seen it in Rey when she watched over Finn while he was healing.  He saw it in Finn the day he woke up and was distressed that she wasn’t there.

“Take every moment,”  he told them.  “Hold onto it with everything you got.”

There was an escort waiting for them at the edge of the system when they exited hyperspace.  The General had sent a message ahead that she was sending an envoy, and they were greeted by a small escort of two older model X-Wings and a blastboat.  They didn’t have much—if the First Order wanted to, they could easily wipe the small militia out.  But they were a proud people that still laid claim to the rocks that used to be their planet.  Alderaan wouldn’t be abandoned without a fight.

The Graveyard had grown from the small group of rebel fighters that protected pilgrims making offerings into a station and a small fleet of ships.  The Republic had offered them resettlement on another planet, but this was home.  General Organa had even made the proposal for them to join the Resistance, but they wouldn’t leave their charge, not even for their Princess.

Poe stood and combed his fingers through his hair, then nodded at Rey to turn on the comm to respond to their hail.

“Protectorate of Alderaan, my name is Poe Dameron.  I come today to return one of your daughters.  My wife—“  His voice nearly broke as he said it, because that’s what she had been, in every way that mattered.  “Euli Avedis, she was born on Alderaan and I’ve brought her home to rest with her family.”

“We are deeply grieved for your loss, Commander Dameron.  We will transmit our protocols and procedures as well as docking permissions for the station.”

Poe stood still until Rey nodded that the transmission was over.  He fell back into the chair and rubbed his hands over his face.  So much energy for such a short conversation.

“You want to refuel first or…?”

Poe sniffed and shook his head at Finn’s question.  “Nah.  Let’s just do it.”

Rey expertly piloted the _Falcon_ through the path given to them by the system’s sentries.  There was always shifting debris, though over the years it had been managed to be corralled into a central location.  And no longer were offerings just dumped out of an airlock.  They had to be packed into a launcher and shot into the Graveyard.

Poe held the shell in his hands.  Euli had hardly any belongings.  Everything she had was borrowed or donated.  She took his things and inhabited his world.  Somewhere along the line, it had stopped being his world and become theirs.  Now that she was gone, it was an empty place foreign to him.

Inside the shell, they had placed memories.  The General, her Princess, had placed one of the tea cups from the set they had often shared.  Bastian found a toggle switch from a Y-Wing—a part from one of the fighters they’d disassembled on Vanan.  There was a data stick with her favorite songs and novels and the story Poe had read to her while she was still in a coma.  And there were other things that other people who knew her had put in.  Poe wondered if she realized how many people she had touched in such a short amount of time.

“They said we can’t idle here for too long,”  Finn prompted.

Poe had been standing in front of the torpedo hatch for several minutes.  Finally, he nodded.  “Yeah, can you—“

Finn reached over and pressed the button to open the hatch and Poe carefully placed the shell inside.

“It’s just stuff that wasn’t even yours.  You’re already with the stars.”  Poe said the words, but he still felt like once he put that shell in and shot it out into the temple of debris, he was letting go.  He couldn’t say goodbye.  He wasn’t ready.  And he couldn’t say anything else, either.  His throat had closed with the knot in it and his jaw was clenched too tight to form anymore words.

The hatch on the launcher closed behind the shell and they walked back to the bridge.  Rey was convincing a passing patrol that they were nearly finished.  She glanced at Finn and Poe.  Another long pause followed before she finally asked,  “Did you want to?”

Poe fell into the chair and shook his head.  He was done.  He didn’t have anything left.

Rey swallowed and nodded and turned back towards the console.  Her hand hovered just over the missile launch control.  “May the—“

“Euli hated the Force.”  As much as he could barely drag himself through the rest of the motions, he couldn’t let those be the last words spoken in this place that he knew she held sacred.

Rey shared an unsure glance with Finn, but Finn—he always seemed to know just what to say.

“ _Fair wind and following seas_.”  Finn reached forward and clasped his hand against Rey’s.  Together, they launched the small memorial shell into the Alderaan Graveyard.  “We have the watch.”

When they docked with the station, Rey and Finn were discussing whether or not they should get something to eat during the refueling.  Check out the station, or if Poe wanted to get back to the Resistance right away.  But Poe just wanted to be alone, even if it was in a crowded station.  Finn started to go after him as Poe walked away, but Rey grabbed his arm and shook her head.

“Just give him time,”  Rey told Finn quietly.

Poe didn’t remember how he found the hole in the wall parlor.  He just wandered and let his feet take him where they would.  He tried not to watch the people that smiled and laughed, or the couple dancing outside of a restaurant like no one was looking.  There were pieces of her here.  In the smells of a tea shop and the way a mother corrected her daughter’s grammar.  A wordless tune came out of a window.  It was an opera Poe swore he had heard before.  He passed a woodcarver’s shop.  A man sat on a stool carving a bird of some sort, but Poe could see his business specialized in the traditional keepsake boxes.

“You would have loved this place,”  he said softly to himself.  “I should have brought you here.”

“What can I do for you today, sir?”  A darkly tanned man led him to a seat in the back of the shop and pulled up a stool as Poe sat down.

“I dunno.”

“Usually people are pretty sure of what they want permanently inked on their body.”

“My girl, she was born here before it went.  She had this real pretty image of the planet and her name and stars for the family she’d lost.”

“So she could always carry them with her.”  The man smiled and pulled the cart with his tools closer.  “Was a popular theme back then, for those that had been away.  She join them?”

Poe nodded, his teeth clenching again, but he held it together for the moment.  “Last week.”

“Tell me about her, and we’ll see if we can’t come up with something so you can carry her with you.”

“It’s a long story.  And I’m not sure you’d believe it.”

“Good.  I love a good, crazy story.  Especially about Alderaanian women.”

The tattoo artist didn’t ask when Poe told him he wanted three stars, not two.  It was cathartic, telling their story to this complete stranger.  Several hours had gone by—much longer than was necessary for the small image he had painted on his arm.  When it was done, there was a sketch of a hawk on his left forearm, covering the small scar.  And three small stars, two filled in and one not.

“A fascinating tale, Poe.  Thank you for sharing it with me.”  The man smiled and shook his hand as Poe got up to leave.  “I wish I could have met Euli, but she lives on.  She’ll be remembered.”

“We were about to send out a station-wide page,”  Finn told Poe when he finally wandered back to where the _Falcon_ was docked.  “Wow—what’s that?”

Rey gave him a comforting smile as she pulled Finn back towards the ship.  “It’s beautiful, Poe.  Come on, let’s get back to the fleet.”

Poe ran his fingers across the tender skin—tinged red under the layer of bacta gel.  Maybe she was with the Force, or the stars, or her family, but she wasn’t gone, not truly.

Poe carried her with him.

 

~*~

 

Months passed, and though the pain never left him, the days became easier.  Poe threw himself into the fight, even more than he had before.  At first, it had been entirely about revenge—making them pay for what they had done.  But then, they found something.

“Are you sure you want to show it to him?  It could be nothing.  I contacted the guild through back channels—this is all the information there is.”  Finn and Rey were hunched over a console in one of the fighter hangars, arguing over something.

“Why would they be looking for it if it didn’t mean something?  Finn,”  Rey said, her fingers clutching onto his shoulder,  “this is _hope_.  He needs this.”

“And if it’s a mistake?  We can’t lose him, too.”

“What’s a mistake?  What’s going on?”  Poe asked, coming up to the pair of them.  It was unlike his friends to have a serious disagreement.

“Finn has something to show you.  Something he found.”

Finn sighed and frowned at Rey, but took a step away from the console so Poe could see.  “I was checking the bounty listings because we’ve been using it to pass information with some contacts.  I found a new listing put in by the First Order.”

Poe leaned over the console to read the text, though Finn was still narrating behind him.

“They’re looking for the _Aldera’s Song_ —“

“And an unnamed female pilot,”  Poe finished.

Poe closed his eyes and hung his head.  At first, it didn’t make sense.  He couldn’t quite process why they would look for a ship that had to have been sold off by their original captors, and who was the pilot?  Unless…

“No, it can’t be.”  Could he let himself even think it?  He wanted to.  It wouldn’t even matter how it could be true if it were true.

“I tried to find more information.  I’m sorry, Poe.  There wasn’t anything else.  Just the listing.”

Poe took a slow, deep, shaky breath.  It filled up his lungs and then he let it out just as haltingly.  He wrapped one arm around Finn and the other around Rey and pulled them in close.  His two dear friends—all three of them had been through so much together.  He didn’t say anything, just held them close for a moment, and then let go.

“Make a counter offer,”  he told Finn.  “Resettlement in a system away from the fighting with enough to start a new life to anyone who has information.”

“Do you think anyone would take that over First Order credits?”

“It’s not about that,”  Poe said, the first hints of a grin starting to pull at his lips.  “It says we’re still out here.”

Poe had missed that—the swelling of hope in his chest, overshadowing the grief.  He still missed her.  Stars, did he miss her.  But just the chance that she could be out there somewhere, safe and healthy, that was enough.  He could imagine her in a better place, and maybe, one day, he’d get to join her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I told some people I was releasing both 21 and 22 today to finish up the story, but 22 isn't quite ready, yet. Sorry about that! As always, thank you for reading. <3


	22. A Stitch Across Space and Time

**Yavin IV**

**Approximately a Year After the Battle of Starkiller Base**

 

Euli laid out on the ramp where Pascia had dumped her.

“ _I have to go back_ ,”  Pascia had said when Euli tried to stop her.  “ _We need all the intel we can get_.”

Euli was too weak to try and stop the foolish woman who had decided to try and infiltrate the First Order, again.  Pascia had some half-baked plan to roll up and act like an officer in charge and insert herself back into their hierarchy.  Not that Euli thought Pascia wouldn’t be able to do it—the spy had proved time and again she was quite adept at getting exactly what the Resistance needed.  Euli didn’t know what Pascia had pulled to find the _Aldera’s Song_ , to find her and Poe on this planet.  Data slices, monitoring hacks, good old fashioned spy work—Euli didn’t ask and Pascia didn’t offer up free information.  It was maddening, but successful and efficient.

“Lying down when things get hard isn’t exactly how I remember you, Major.  But then, memory is usually first to go, isn’t it?”

“Skywalker?”  Euli blinked up at the man peering down at her.  He was older than she remembered, which was to be expected, but his hair and beard were neatly trimmed and his clothes clean and pressed.  Not exactly the image of the wandering hermit they all thought he had been.  “Shouldn’t you be out there?”

“Maybe.”  He shrugged his shoulders and turned away, heading towards the cockpit.  “Another former pupil of mine needs help right now.”

Euli frowned.  It was likely pure spite that dragged her off the floor and made her hand press the button to recall the ramp and shut the hatch.  By the time she made it to the cockpit, her limbs feeling like they were too heavy for her body, the momentary agitation had faded away, leaving just the sadness and regret.

“I was never your student,”  she said quietly as she leaned on the pilot’s seat.

“Officially, I guess you weren’t.  I hope you at least learned something.”  Luke sat in the co-pilot’s chair, his hands crossed in his lap, looking very much like that poised teacher of her memory.  But there was sadness in his eyes, even if the tone of his voice was lighthearted.

Euli was quiet for a moment.  She had learned some things; grown as anyone does with age and experience, but she was still the same as she always was.  Quick to anger and often irrational—her default setting seemed to be to snap back as quickly and fiercely as possible.  He had warned her, as others had, it was not a healthy way to live.  Not in the Force, or in life.  It was hate that had sent her to Hosnian Prime.  Fear and anger had driven her try and divest herself of the Force.  And the rage that had created the energy that crushed their oppressor, the one that killed her friend.

“I am so sorry.”  She had been holding those words for thirty years and when they finally came out, they were quiet and hoarse.

“Me too.”  Luke chuckled at how her look of painful remorse contorted to confusion because what did Luke Skywalker have to be sorry for?  It was the rest of the galaxy that had completely failed him.  “I tried to resurrect a failed Order and then was surprised when it failed.  Clung to old dogma and tag lines.”

“But that wasn’t—“

“Entirely my fault?  Maybe not.  What happened to you wasn’t entirely your fault, but you still carry around all that guilt.  For those kids, your pilots, your sister.”

“I could have done things differently.  Done more.  Been better.  I failed you—everyone.”

“We all fail.  The hard part is forgiving yourself and trying again,”  Luke said as he got slowly to his feet.  “The past is the past.  It’s done.  You can only do better _this_ time.”

“How?”

Luke sighed, his hands folding again in front of him.  It seemed fitting that now, after all this time, she was ready to receive a lesson when he was no longer giving them.  At least, not in so many explicit instructions.  “Trust your instincts.”

“And if my instincts are telling me to kill a man?”  For a second, that familiar brash pilot appeared and it made them both smirk.

“Maybe still give it a four count.”

 

When Euli opened her eyes, she saw the familiar glowing tree and sat on the same soft Yavin grass.  She often thought of that final, brief encounter with Luke Skywalker.  It was just the push she needed at precisely that time to summon the rest of her strength and pilot the freighter off the planet—and in the opposite direction of the Resistance.  Euli appreciated that Skywalker hadn’t told her to trust the Force, even if that was perhaps what he had meant.

She could still feel it there, around the edges.  Even if she had failed to remove herself completely from the Force, she had irreparably damaged her connection to it.  Another tick in the box of things she didn’t really appreciate until they were gone.  Any action, such as the constant vigilance and what she had done to the bounty hunter, required a significant amount of effort.  Often, she wondered just how many strings she could pull before it would all unravel and leave her with nothing.

The tree, however benign and fixed, was still warm and calming.  Somehow, a soothing balm to her raw emotions and frayed nerves.  It had never stopped calling to her, though quieter now than before.

When Euli had woken up that morning, a full day after the bounty hunters had come, she told Kes everything.  He listened with patience and kindness and without judgment.  It was far better than she felt she deserved.

She started at the beginning, where Kylo Ren had inexplicably discovered the bond she had shared with Poe in the Force and used it for his dark manipulations.    She told him about how they’d been trapped in the bunker and been forced to work through what had happened, and then how the joy they’d found was short-lived once they were captured and sold to the First Order.  Her voice cracked when she told him that his son had never lost hope.  Poe had been sure they’d get out, one way or another.  That hope kept them alive.  She was ashamed now, of how she’d begged him to leave the others behind.  Poe would never leave innocents to die if he still had hope.

“He thinks you’re dead?”  Kes had cupped her hand in his as they sat on the sofa.  His eyes were watery, but they’d both thankfully avoided breaking down completely.  He looked towards the room where Nadja was napping.  “That you’re both…?”

Euli nodded and sniffed.  “When Pascia said she wasn’t coming with me, that she was going to try and get back in with the First Order, I knew it was never going to end.  The fighting would never stop.  We’d keep getting dragged back into it.”

There were a thousand reasons why Euli had it in her head that this was the best course of action.  Why all of her instincts screamed at her to run.  She couldn’t let Nadja grow up in that life with the constant war and friends and loved ones dying all around them.  What if the First Order tried to use them as leverage against Poe or his friends?  And what Kylo had said, about her use of the Force, that was always there quietly taunting her.  Nadja was safer away from the war, and the Resistance was safer without Euli.  This was for the best.  For everyone.

Kes had embraced her.  He didn’t have any sage advice or hopeful words that things would work out—platitudes she didn’t want or need—he just held her.

A throat cleared behind her, pulling her out of her staring contest with the tree.  Euli rubbed at her tired eyes and got to her feet.  Looking at Kes, she knew the conversation that was coming.

“I’m going to try and contact the Resistance.  I—“  He paused and rubbed his hands together.  “I’m not sure what I’ll tell him, if he’s there.  I don’t want to go behind your back to do it.”

“Kes—“

“I will be careful,”  he told her firmly in response to the warning in her voice.  “He is my son, Euli.  I deserve to know if he’s alive—and by all the stars in the heavens, I would give anything to have Shara back.  He deserves to know.”

She nodded mutely.  She couldn’t fight that, but Shara didn’t fake her death and hide her child.  Looking at Kes, she realized he would have loved her despite any of that.  She wasn’t sure if she could dare to hope if the same was true for Poe.

           

~*~

 

Poe took a few moments after he pulled off his helmet to breathe in the warm Yavin air.  It had only been a year, maybe a little longer, since the last time he’d been home, but somehow it felt like ages had gone by.

“Yeah, just a pit stop, buddy,”  Poe said in response to the curious beeps behind him.  “Pop’s lucky this little detour was almost on the way.  He was pretty cryptic in his message—and coming through an old smuggler channel, too.  Wonder what’s got him so spooked.”

Both pilot and droid disengaged from the X-Wing and made their way across the cracked permacreet and grass to the man waiting for them.  Poe was surprised at how fiercely his father embraced him, but then they had almost no contact since the last time he had been home, and that had not been under ideal circumstances.

“It’s good to see you, Poe,”  his father said, his voice uncharacteristically filled with emotion.  Usually he saved the almost-tears for the goodbyes, not the hellos.

“You, too, Pop.  Are you okay?  Your message sounded urgent.”  Poe rested his hand on his father’s shoulder as he pulled away.  Kes grimaced and looked unsure.

“We had a close call, but we can talk about that later.”

“We?”

Kes let out a long sigh and patted Poe on his cheek.  Poe wasn’t sure what to make of the gesture that was somewhere between a token of comfort and maybe wishing him luck.  “Don’t be too hard on the girl.  I understand that you’ll be upset, but she’s been through hell just to get here.”

Poe had stopped listening at the word “girl.”  His eyes looked behind his father towards the farmhouse.  It looked the same as it always had with its swept porch and familiar bench and the perfectly tended flower beds.

His heart hammered in his chest and the blood thundered in his veins as he walked unblinking towards the door.  As he made his way up the few steps to the porch, he noticed the things that were out of place: a pink blanket folded up on the bench, a small bucket with a tiny shovel, and other small toys—toys?

His hand hovered over the door control.  He didn’t know what to think; didn’t know how to prepare himself.  If what he thought was in there and it wasn’t—he had already grieved.  Already said goodbye.

The door opened, and he took one step over the threshold.  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the sunlight to the shadows of the living room.  A figure stood slowly from the couch and turned towards him.  She wore a loose fitting blue smock with a string of milky drool down her shoulder.  Her hair was longer, but brushed back and tucked under a matching blue strip of cloth.  And in her arms—

Poe could barely breathe.

There was a long second where they just stared at each other across the furniture crowded into the small living room.  And then in a snap, Poe rushed across the room, nearly vaulted a chair to get to her.  He crushed them both against his chest, only vaguely aware of the gurgling noise of the small, wiggly body between them.

Euli sobbed against him and as soon as it hit his ears, he gasped and tried to hold back his own sudden swell of emotion.  His hand wrapped around the back of her skull and practically pinned her to his shoulder, too terrified that if he let go, they would be gone.  That this would be some foul trick—a trap, or worse.

“I’m sorry.  I’m sorry,”  she mumbled into his shoulder.  The apology tumbled out in a continuous stream of stuttering words and sobbing hiccups.

He lifted her head off of his shoulder and smudged the tears across her cheeks with his thumbs.  She was real, here— _alive_.  Poe pressed his lips into hers—kissed her in a way that was making up for months they’d been apart.  Kissed her like she’d just come back from the grave.  His tongue brushed across her lips, and when she finally kissed him back, her fingers tentatively coming up and brushing across his face, Poe was at last convinced of the moment.

“You did so good, sweetheart,”  he said against her lips which drew another sob from her.  He kissed her again, to try and quiet the tears and free her from the guilt.

“I’m sorry I ran.  I’m sorry I let you think—“

“No—no, you kept yourself alive and safe and that’s exactly what I wanted.  You were right.  It was too dangerous with the fleet.  We—“  Poe paused to take a breath as he rocked slightly with the pair of them in his arms.  “We lost so many.

“You’re alive,”  he whispered and his lips brushed across hers again.  Then, he leaned back, and looked at the flailing little limbs of the baby with thick, dark curls and big, brown eyes.  He found he could barely make the words.  “And… and… she’s beautiful.”

There was a gasp of nervous laughter followed by a sniffle as Euli adjusted her hold on the child.  “Her name’s Nadja.”

Poe smiled at the girl—his daughter—and swept his fingers along her full cheeks and played with her grabbing hands.  He didn’t say anything about her namesake or the fitting tribute it made to a kind and generous woman.  He just smiled at both his girls.

“Well, that went a whole lot better than I expected,”  Kes said from the still open front door.

There was another noise behind his father—the high-pitched, dramatic squealing of BB-8.  He pushed past Kes and navigated his way through the living room until he bumped into Euli’s legs, rocking back and forth excitedly until she bent slightly and pressed her hand against his dome.

“Thank you for taking care of him, Beebee-ate,”  she told the droid.       

“See, I told you she was still out there, buddy.”

Euli glanced up at him—confusion, disbelief, a myriad of emotions passing over her tear-stained face.  “You knew?”

“I had hope.”

She sniffed and looked away.  Poe watched as the baby—his _daughter_ —reached her chubby fingers towards the astromech as BB-8 chirped quizzically at her.  He bent down next to them and reached out to brush his fingers across her downy curls and smiled when she cooed at him.

“I did think you were gone, for a little while.  It was the worst feeling—I thought it was going to swallow me.  But then Finn found the bounty on your ship and I just—I grabbed onto that and it kept me going.”  Poe paused and rubbed at his face for a second.  What he had to say, it was hard, but she had to hear it.  Because just as he could see the guilt tearing away at her, it had been slowly killing him as well.  “I didn’t want to look.  Didn’t want to find out it was a mistake and that you were really dead.  I thought, if you were out there and you saw that we were still looking, you’d come back when it was safe.  And so I’d go to the bridge every morning and look at the reports and you never showed up so I just kept thinking you were out there, somewhere.  And one day… One day...”

“Hey, ball.  Come on.  Got some work for you,”  Kes called to the droid.

BB-8 wobbled at Poe, but he nodded and jerked his head back towards his father.  They needed this time, just the three of them, and Poe was thankful that his father had some tasks to occupy himself and the curious droid.

Euli offered to make him some tea, or caf, or maybe some food, but he held her close and told her not to worry about that.  It was his house, if he wanted something, he could get it.  They settled on the couch and she told him about she’d lived like a hermit, running at sublight speeds to conserve fuel.  Until late in her pregnancy, she realized she had no idea what she was doing.  Out in the middle of space with almost no supplies and a baby about to come.  She came to Yavin and tried to pay a midwife what few credits she had to deliver Nadja.  The woman had refused payment—the first of many entries in a list of kindnesses she couldn’t repay.  Then, she hid on the outskirts of civilization until the fateful day that Kes found her.

Poe told her about what was left of the Resistance—those that they had lost.  With a smile, he told her about Rey and Finn and how if they weren’t careful, they too would end up with a small bundle.  He showed her the hawk tattoo on his arm and told her about how he’d gone to the Alderaanian system and seen the Graveyard and the station full of her people.  It had been such a long time since he’d seen her light up that way—so full of pride and excitement.

“We have to go, one day,”  she said with her head on his shoulder.

“We will,”  he promised.  “I want to show you everything wonderful in this galaxy.”

Euli laughed when Nadja started screaming after soiling herself, though probably more at the look of horror on Poe’s face.  He knew that’s what babies did, but having it there in his lap, he decided he wasn’t a fan.  Though there was the unspoken knowledge that Poe couldn’t stay, he’d have to go back to the Resistance eventually, she showed him how to take care of their daughter.  Showed him how to clean and change her, how to wrap her up in her favorite blanket.  Though Euli fed her, Poe carefully held her in his arms and walked her around the house until she was asleep.

“This is real, isn’t it?”  he asked in a whisper as they stood over the small crib that held their daughter as she slept all tucked in for the night.

Euli’s fingers found his and squeezed them tightly as she leaned against him.  She didn’t say anything—there wasn’t anything to say to his disbelieving question.  He turned around and looked at the single bed pushed up against the wall—the same bed he had slept in as a youth.  “I can sleep out on the couch.”

“Are you mad?”  she asked with a small laugh, then pushed him back towards the bed.  They fell onto it together, both shushing each other as they nearly started laughing at the absurdity of it.  Trying to get undressed as quietly as possible and somehow find a comfortable position on the bed designed for just one adolescent person.

Euli cuddled in close to him, as if there was any other way they could be, with her head resting just under his chin.  “This mattress isn’t that much smaller than—“

“I was just thinking that,”  he said, cutting her off.  “I try not to think about that place.”

“I think about it a lot,”  she said quietly as her fingers dragged long strokes up and down his side.  “It was horrible, but we were together every day.  We got to have breakfast and dinner together, shower together, and sleep in the same bed.  As karked up as it is, it was almost normal.”

“Together with a few hundred other people.  Not exactly how I imagined a stable home life.”  Poe sighed and pressed his lips to the top of her head.  “You were the best part of that place for me, too.  I would have gotten myself killed trying to escape.  It would have driven me crazy being there on my own, but being in there with you, reminded me I had to think about more than just myself.”

“Nadja is that for me.  I probably would have let myself die out there, but she needed me.”

“I don’t want to talk about death anymore,”  he said with another heavy sigh.  “Not here.”

In the morning, Poe woke up to an empty bed and empty crib and sunlight assaulting his eyes.  Despite the cramped space, it was the best sleep he’d had in what felt like years.  Deep and dreamless; warm, but not overly so.  He had half-expected to be woken up by a crying baby, but if Nadja had made any noise, he slept right through it.  He yawned and stretched and found his pants.  His drawers weren’t his any longer—there were a few of his shirts left, but mostly it was her things.  It was the same for the rest of the room.  There were bits and pieces of things that belonged to the younger version of himself, but this had become her space.

It made him smile as the warm feeling flooded him.  And reminded him of something hidden away in this room.

Top of the closet, underneath an extra set of sheets, he found the metal tackle box.  Inside were random trinkets, strings of tangled fishing line, and a small silver band strung on a chain.

When his father had finally gotten to the point where he could go through his mother’s things without breaking down, he’d found the ring tucked in with an old baby blanket.  _“I guess she wanted you to have it,”_ his father had said.

But Poe didn’t want it.  Told his father he didn’t want it.  So Kes had put it away.  Five years to the day since she passed, he found it again and wasn’t sure what had compelled him to take it.  The chain felt heavy around his neck as he tromped through the jungle towards his favorite fishing spot.  It was memory and responsibility and pain.  To his adolescent mind, it was completely avoidable pain.

He had the ring in his fingers, poised to chuck it out into the river that led to the waterfall.  He never wanted to love like that.  It had devastated his father, devastated him.  To this day, Poe didn’t know what had stayed his hand.  What made him drop his arm limply down to his side and hide the ring away underneath the hooks and weights.  Maybe he had realized his mother wouldn’t want him to swear off love, or that he was thirteen and couldn’t possibly know what life had in store for him.

As he held it in his fingers now, he realized he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Look who’s finally awake,”  Euli said as he walked out into the living room.  She was sitting at the computer console, Nadja propped up in a high chair next to her.  The tray of the chair was splattered with mushy crackers.  The child had a small rag she was swiping through the mess in front of her and then sticking in her mouth.  When she looked up at Poe, she gave a wide, gummy smile and waved her prize around.

“Pop keeps buying her toys, but that rag is her favorite.  I’ll have to steal it from her later to wash it since I forgot about it last night.”  Euli reached over and tickled Nadja’s tiny toes, making her kick out her legs and arms and make happy gurgling noises.

Poe just stood there.  Words, again, completely failing him.  He wondered how long the disbelief would last, if he’d ever get used to seeing them happy, or hearing that laugh.

“There’s some breakfast left, if you’re hungry.”

“Where’s Beebee-ate?”  Poe asked, looking around for the droid.

“Pop put him to work recalibrating the auto-harvesters.  Should be a good crop this year.  Come look.”

Despite being sticky and slobbery, Poe played with Nadja’s fingers when she grabbed for him as he tried to look at what Euli was working on at the console.  It was charts and graphs and a rendering of what looked like the orchards and crop fields.  “What am I looking at?”  he asked.

“Pop’s already promised a lot of this year’s harvest to a couple different buyers, plus what we’ve already donated to the refugee support—we’ll still be at a loss for this year.  But next year, if I can get him to charge a fair market price for the koyo, we should be able to finally turn a profit.  Invest in some improvements.”

The business side of the farm was always something he viewed as a huge chore.  His father struggled to keep it all straight so it fell to him to manage, and he had never enjoyed it.  Euli, however, seemed to have taken to it quite well, but then he remembered she had told him before she was a war fighter, she had been a finance student.  In a whole different life.

“Improvements like an addition to this place?  Extra bedroom at least?”  he said with a grin.

She was quiet for a moment as she looked up at him.  “Pop and I talked about that, but we weren’t sure how long we’d be staying.”

Oh.  Poe glanced around the cluttered living room with its stacks of laundry piled on the couch and toys strewn on the floor, dishes still on the dining table.  He didn’t want to do it here.  “Can we talk outside, maybe?”

“You sure you don’t want to eat?”

“There’s something we need to talk about.”  That wasn’t exactly how he wanted it to come out.  Poe wasn’t sure what he was suddenly anxious about—they had just spent the night huddled around each other like they hadn’t spent almost a year apart.  They had a child together, and hell, he’d already been calling her his wife.  There was no reason to think she’d say no.  But what if she did?  _Shit._

Euli gave him a rather curious look, but she went and got a fresh went cloth and wiped down Nadja before pulling her out of her chair.  She dumped the babe into Poe’s arms before she started squealing and crying that her favorite rag had been taken away.  He bounced her slightly and made silly faces, but wasn’t entirely sure what he needed to do to solve the problem.

“Just take her blanket and some toys outside and I’ll be out in a minute.  She likes rolling around in the grass, so just make sure she doesn’t roll in animal poop.”

“So this is life with a baby,”  Poe said to the girl in his arms as he walked outside.  “Make sure she doesn’t roll in poop.  Seems easy enough.”

Poe was wrong.  He was so very wrong.  The rolling didn’t stop and he didn’t understand how she wasn’t unbelievably dizzy every time he caught up to her and picked her back up.  She’d picked up leaves and grass and one very angry beetle, but so far, no poop.  He managed to distract her well enough by lying back on the grass and letting her crawl all over him.  Little hands mashing him in the face and knees in his gut.  But he loved it, every ridiculous moment.

Finally, Euli’s head appeared over him, momentarily blocking out the sun.  “Having fun?”

“She’s fast.”

“Gets that from you,”  she said as she sat down in the grass next to him.  “What did you want to talk about?”

Poe sat up, tried to corral the little girl between the two of them so she didn’t roll away while he was trying to propose to her mother.  “Us.  Our plans.  The future.”

Euli looked sad, all of a sudden.  The light, happy mood replaced by a darkness.  “I don’t think our goals are really the same anymore, Poe.”

“Our goals?  What do you mean?”

“What Shara and Kes did, it was noble and selfless, but I already put my time in.  I can’t go another round, not anymore.  She needs me.  I need her.  So I’m going to be selfish and say to hell with the whole damn galaxy.”

“What?”  He sat dumb for a moment, unsure what had brought about the sudden swell of anger and sadness—why her teeth were clenched and there were tears ready to spill.  Poe scooted next to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly.  “Euli, that’s not what I meant.  You were right to come here and keep Nadja and Pop safe.  I wasn’t going to ask you to come back to the Resistance.  If you wanted to, that’d be your choice, but if you don’t, I understand.”

And stars, he didn’t want her there.  His parents had been lauded as heroes; people had thanked them for their sacrifice, but what if they had both died in their war?  He would have been an orphan.  That had been their choice and as a kid he never really thought about it, but now, with his own child—he didn’t want to take the chance that she could be alone in this galaxy.

Euli sniffled against him and wiped her eyes with the blanket that he’d brought out.  She sighed heavily as he kissed the top of her head, like she’d just dropped a weight she’d been carrying around.  Perhaps more guilt.

“What I meant was, maybe not the future, maybe just right now.  You and me—“

“What do you have there, baby girl?”  Euli interrupted his meandering words to reach out and untangle something from around Nadja’s hands.  “Where did you get that?”

Poe frowned and checked his pockets, not that he needed to.  His mother’s ring and the chain it was on were now in Euli’s hand, covered in drool.  He let out a small laugh and stuck a finger out to poke at the mischievous little girl.  “That’s what I was trying to get at, but I guess she thought I was taking too long.”

“Poe, really…”

“Sweetheart.”  It was his turn to interrupt her as he shifted and moved in front of her.  She had picked up Nadja into her lap, the ring still twined in their fingers with the girl still trying to gum at it.  “We’ve been through hell together, and we almost didn’t make it.  But we _did_.  And I can’t let you go again.  We’re gonna win, and I’m gonna come back here, and nothing is going to pull us apart again.  And we’ll fight and make up and grow old and have like a dozen more kids.”

 “A dozen?  Put on the stabilizers there, flyboy.”  Euli laughed, her face glowing in flustered shock as the words spilled from him.  “I think you’re forgetting something, Poe.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re already married.  The First Order recorded it when we first showed up at that camp.  And—“  She reached forward to run her finger across the ink on his forearm.  “—this is us, all right here, together.”

“I’d still like to do it the old fashioned way.  Vows, friends, a big party.”

She smiled and leaned into him and kissed him softly.  “Okay.”

“Really?”  Poe grinned wide and kissed her again.  And again.  And then popped up with a sudden energy and all of the plans he now needed to make.

 

~*~

 

Euli left most of the planning to Poe.  It seemed he had an idea in his head of how he wanted everything to be, and she left him to it.  She had enough to do with getting ready for harvest season, taking care of Nadja, and constantly keeping an eye out for those who would try and come after them.  Ever paranoid, she had finally gotten ahold of some of the “illegal” equipment needed to keep a keener eye on the galaxy.

Poe and Euli didn’t talk much about the war, though.  She realized that he needed a reprieve from it, and she needed to keep what was happening out there at a safe distance.  Though they were never truly safe, she couldn’t process it with him—the stress and the guilt was too much.  Maybe it wasn’t healthy to ignore what was happening around them, or that Poe was going to leave and go back into the fighting, but for Euli, it was better than the alternative.  Staying steady was important for her own health, and for Nadja.

The next two days passed by like a whirlwind, and left just as much mess.  The day before the big event, a ship like none other landed next to Poe’s X-Wing.  The last time Euli had seen Finn, he was still in a coma.  And Rey—she had been like a valkyrie.  Flown down from on high to rescue them.

“I’m really glad to finally meet you,”  Finn said as they greeted each other.  He pulled her into a crushing hug and laughed heartily.

“Me, too,”  Euli said, returning the firm embrace.  “I feel like I already know you.  Poe talks about you all the time.”

“It’s good to see you again—alive.”  Rey smiled and hugged her as well.

Though her connection to the Force was weak and stretched thin, Euli could feel Rey as brilliantly as the Yavin star.  She was grace and compassion, and fierce tenacity.  It nearly brought a tear to her eye as she basked in it for a long second as they embraced.  “Thank you.”

Rey pulled back, like she had felt every emotion Euli had put into that expression of gratitude.  Euli wasn’t just thanking her for saving them from that work camp, but she had been saving Poe in little ways for months.  Keeping him steady.  Euli would be forever grateful for that.

Poe showed off his daughter to his friends and she charmed them both.  Though both seemed uncertain as to what to do with a baby, they took to her quite well.

Their guests barely got a moment to enjoy the company, because Poe put them both straight to work setting up the chairs he’d rented.  They were doing it right here in the yard, standing under the tree—that had been Euli’s suggestion.

“Poe said that you hated the Force,”  Rey told Euli as they stood under the tree together.

“I did, very much.  I didn’t understand it and I refused any advice.  I was foolish, and I paid the price for it.”

“I don’t think the Force has a will,”  Rey said.  “I think it reacts to the ripples in the galaxy and tries to counterbalance.  Sometimes it fans the ripples in one direction, but we always steer the boat.  We control our own destinies—make choices that have consequences.”

Euli nodded.  “I think, now that I’m nearly blind, I can finally see that.”

“Sit with me?”  Rey asked, turning towards her.  She looked serene and patient, though a bit nervous at the question because she was unsure what the answer would be.  “I’d like to show you what I’ve learned, if you’ll let me.”

Euli tried to swallow back the sudden knot in her throat.  Slowly, she nodded.  “I’d like that.  I think—I think I’m finally ready.”

 

~*~

 

“We should have just had it in the town square,”  Kes grumbled at the people milling out around his property, trampling his grass.  He was going to whap someone with a stick if they were in his flower beds.  Though the flowers had nearly all been cut to make the bouquets.

“It looks great, Pop.”  Poe leaned over and kissed his father on the cheek.  Then, blew raspberries on Nadja’s chubby cheeks before handing her giggling off to her grandfather.

“Yeah, we’ll see how it looks after everyone clears out.”  Kes sighed and shook his head at the child, as if she understood how ridiculous having half the town out on his ranch was.  “Let’s get this show on the road already.”

They were all dressed casually—it was a warm day and this wasn’t exactly a formal event.  Poe had on loose-fitting trousers, a tan shirt open at the throat, and a dark brown leather jacket.  Finn, standing next to him, was dressed similarly.  And Rey, on his other side, had her usual grey and tan vestments.  Dr. Lapalo, who had helped Kes look after Poe when he’d come back from Jakku, presided over the impromptu ceremony.  Poe had been puzzled, but impressed, to hear he was also licensed for weddings.  Odd sort of combination, but convenient.

The guests, near a hundred people of all sorts, quieted as Poe and his friends took their places under the tree.  They all stood when a tiny speaker emitted a vibrant hymn.  Poe smiled as he recognized the old Alderaanian waltz, a favorite of hers.  BB-8 rolled down the aisle, his little speaker humming with the notes.  Behind him were three of the people who meant the most to Poe in the whole galaxy.

His father was dressed nicely, compared to most everyone else.  In a sharp black blazer, though his sleeves were rolled up his forearms.  In his arms, he carried that beautiful baby girl.  Nadja had on the cutest yellow dress with a ribbon and large bow wrapped around her head.  She was gurgling and reaching for her mother, though Kes kept hold of her firmly.

With her arm hooked in his father’s free arm, she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.  She had on a short peach dress that hung loosely off her shoulders with a little hat sporting a miniature veil that barely covered her brow pinned into her hair.  In her hands were a bundle of white orchids—his mother’s flowers.  She was watching him, smiling the whole walk down their makeshift aisle.

When they got to him, there were exchanges of hugs and kisses and Kes placed Euli’s hand into Poe’s before he took Nadja to find his seat.

Dr. Lapalo cleared his throat as everyone settled into their seats.  “We are gathered here, amongst half of the Yavin moon, to celebrate our own Mr. Dameron and his lady faire, Ms. Avedis.  Though, I am told, in some systems, they are already married and this is just an excuse to have a party and crack open Yoren’s private kegs.”

There were chuckles across the audience and Poe nodded with a grin.

“In any case, we are very happy for them that in this fickle galaxy, they have found each other.  Poe and Euli have some things they would like to say so let’s all watch Kes try not to cry, because we all know that he’s just a big softy.”

More chuckles followed along with his father grumbling some things that Poe thought really weren’t appropriate while he was holding his granddaughter.

Poe was going to speak first; they had decided the night before when they ran quickly through what they were planning.  He’d gone over in his head exactly what he was going to tell her—lay it all out in front of all these people.  He was ready to shout it from the rooftops.  “Euli, I—“

“Poe, I need to go first.”

“Of course you do,”  he said with a small laugh and squeezed  her hand.

“You—“  She looked at him in a way that Poe wasn’t sure he’d seen before.  No—there was one time, but it had been in a dream, long ago.  She looked at him without any of that haunted wistfulness; her eyes were smiling, full of hope and love.  “You saved me, over and over.  From the carbonite, from myself.  You believed in me when I couldn’t believe in myself.  I couldn’t even see what was in front of my face, but you saw the sun.

“I used to think I didn’t deserve that sort of love, but you made me believe I was worth it.  I had to be, if someone like you could love someone like me.  And somehow, after everything that happened, you still love me, and I still love you.”

Poe didn’t look out into the audience, didn’t glance at his father or his friends.  He had to keep his gaze fixed on her because he was sure if he saw anyone else with tears he might lose control of his.  She was as articulate and poignant as always.  He brushed a finger over her cheek, rescuing a stray tear.  Then, clasped her hand again tightly.

“Are you done?”  he asked with a grin.

She laughed lightly and nodded.

“Euli Avedis,”  he started with a small smile.  “I have loved you since before I even knew your name.  Maybe it was a curiosity, an infatuation, but more than anything I wanted you to be okay, to smile, to laugh.  I wanted to protect you and keep you safe, even if you were pretty good at that on your own.

“Even when I tried to convince myself that I hated you, I knew that I could never.  You are always my last thought at night and my first thought in the morning.  And even though we’ve been apart for so long, you are _always_ with me.”

Poe dug around in his pocket for a second before Finn squeezed him on the shoulder and placed the ring in his hand.  Freshly polished to a silver shine, he took it with a grateful smile and clasped Euli’s hand again.  “My parents shared a love that I never thought I would have.  It wasn’t until I met you that I understood what that truly meant.  Please, take this ring, that has always to me been a symbol of a deep and giving love, and be my wife.”

With tears in her still-smiling eyes, Euli nodded as he slipped the ring onto her finger.  She turned quickly and gave Rey her bouquet of flowers in exchange for something else he didn’t quite catch a glimpse of.  She held it tightly in her hand as she looked back up at him.

“I still had some credits leftover from selling my ship.  It doesn’t have a history or a deep meaning other than I bought it for you, but please, take it and be my husband.”

It was a slim gold band with intricate markings—Haysian smelt if Poe recognized the etchings correctly.  A rare metal these days and he somehow doubted she had just come across it in the town’s market.  But he smiled and nodded as she slipped it onto his finger.

“Well, then I—all right then.”

Dr. Lapalo had barely started speaking again before Poe cupped Euli’s face in his hands and pressed his lips into hers.  One hand drifted down to press into her lower back to hold her steady as he dipped into her.  Anything their officiate had to say or any cheers from the crowd were lost to him as he kissed his wife.

 

~*~

 

For a scant few hours, they forgot about the war.  They forgot that it still needed Poe and was going to take him back once this revelry was over.  Euli let herself forget; didn’t let the melancholy or worry in.  They ate too much food and danced and drank until the stars came out.  She danced with Kes and Finn and Rey—Poe kept stealing her back when someone else wanted a dance with the bride.

Kes handed Nadja off to Finn to hold while he fussed about over the food and guests.  Finn gave the child funny looks at first, unsure of what to do with an infant, but like most people, she quickly won him over.  Euli caught him a few times finding excuses why other people couldn’t hold her.

“They should come live with us,”  Euli told Poe with a grin as they swayed with their arms around each other.  She let herself think about what life could be like without the fighting.  What sort of daily distractions they could have that didn’t involve blasters or fighters or clandestine transmissions.

“We’d definitely need to build an addition for that.  Besides, they’re young.  They should be out exploring the stars and getting into trouble.”

“Everyone needs someplace to come home to.”

He squeezed her tightly and they enjoyed the waning moments of their celebration.  Eventually, their guests helped Pop clean up and began leaving.  All with handshakes, hugs, and well wishes.  Nadja had fallen asleep earlier in Finn’s arms and Kes had to convince him to go lay her down in her crib.  Finn and Rey eventually retired into the _Falcon_.  Kes and a few stragglers were still cleaning up when Euli pulled Poe away from house.

“I know spending our wedding night crammed into a single bed with a baby sleeping a meter away isn’t exactly romantic, but you remember what I said about the snakes, right?”

“Shh!”  She poked him hard in the side with a laugh.  “I want to try something.”

“ _Oh_.”  Poe grinned with a waggle of his eyebrows.  He took her hand and pulled her back to him, his lips latching onto hers.  She giggled again and tried to pull away, but he held fast, pressing in close to her.  She kissed him back, tongue grazing along his as her fingers curled into his jacket and huddled in close.

When he broke away for a second and glanced up, he realized how far they had moved—all the way back out to under the Force tree.  He looked back towards her with a questioning look.  “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know the Force, Poe.  Every time I think I’ve got some of it figured out, I realize I’m still floundering in the shallow end of the pool.”

“Is that what you and Rey talked about?”

Her head nodded slightly as she turned back towards the tree, taking small steps closer.  “A bit.  She’s amazing—and so strong.”

What Rey had shown her—there weren’t words to describe it.  It was the fabric of existence and how the Force ran through and wove everything together.  Rey said she saw the Force as water—blood in a body, rivers that fed rainforests, currents that rushed past carrying all life with it and nurturing everything it came in contact with.  Euli knew that she saw the Force as threads—strings woven around people and creatures.  Strings that could be pulled and manipulated, threads that could be severed, but also, perhaps, sewn back together.

Cautiously, her fingers grazed along the bark of the tree.  It had become so familiar to her, its energy, but it still haunted her in a way that wanted more than she could give.

“Do they still speak to you?”  Poe asked quietly, reverently.

“Not so much.  Sometimes, just at the edge of my mind, I can feel it.”  She took a deep, steadying breath.  She didn’t know how to ask him to do what she had planned.  Rey told her that the Force was Life itself, which Euli knew, but didn’t quite understand in the way that Rey did.  Slowly, she caught onto the lesson that Life was cyclical.  Birth, death, rebirth.  Just because some rivers had been dammed, didn’t mean that the water wouldn’t cut a new path—find a new way.

Poe’s fingers brushed against the side of her face.  Euli wondered if he remembered how it had worked before.  Though it had been half of an accident at the time—something she had done without knowing or understanding.  She smiled at him when he placed his hand on the tree and waited for her.  “What is it you need me to do?” 

Her arm curled around him and she pressed her forehead against his.  “I need you to find me.”

 

~*~

 

Before, he had felt everything.  Every emotion pouring out of her like a gale of a storm set to blow him over.  This time, when Euli’s hand covered his on the tree, he felt nothing.  It was a hauntingly familiar emptiness.  The same void that had existed since they day he’d been captured and tortured by Kylo Ren.

In the great white blank space there existed only the tree.  It hummed with a green glow, standing taller and broader than his memory.  All the branches were in the same place, just somehow larger and more expansive.  Poe flexed his fingers, trying to see if he could still feel Euli.  He knew that she was standing right in front of him, holding onto him, but in here, he felt nothing from her.  In the absence of a guide, Poe repeated what he had done in the past and hoped it would yield similar results.  He stuck his hand out, grabbed onto a branch, and began pulling himself upward.

This time, when he reached the top of the tree, he wasn’t on a shuttle platform, but the top of a Massassi Temple.  The one he’d climbed as a youth and gotten in a whole mess of trouble for.  As he pulled himself up, he noticed that he was not alone up here on this pyramid.  Though, he probably should have expected that.

He did not expect her.

“Hello,”  she said.  Her legs swung and kicked the stones as she sat nonchalantly at the tip-top.  She was wearing a yellow sundress and her dark, curly hair was pulled back in yellow ribbons.  She was young, if one dared called a teenager young, but far older than she should have been.

“Hey there, baby girl.  Shouldn’t you be asleep?”  He sat down next to her and looked out over the forests below.  Everything had a bit of a haze to it.  Not like a dream, but like looking through tempered glass.  Real, but also not quite the way it was supposed to be.

The girl looked down at her hands, ran them over her dress, and then looked back at him with a large, toothy smile.  Then, she looked down and out into the forests below, towards the direction where Poe knew his father’s house was.  “Maybe.”

“It’s okay.  I know you’re not her.”

“We are all bonded together.  You were told this before.  Right now, you need a bridge.”

“Something that connects us.”

The girl gave him another large grin.  “I always knew you were clever, Papa.”

It was rather unsettling, because he knew that she was not Nadja.  Understood that this apparition was the tree or just a wandering Force ghost sent to interfere and/or help.  But he could see, in the curves of her cheeks and the flare of her nose, features he recognized.  The infant daughter he had just met all grown up.  Apparition or not, Poe realized that he needed her help.

“Okay, kiddo.  How do we find your mother?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you that.  I’m just the bridge.  You have to find the path.”

“I _knew_ it couldn’t be that easy.”

Poe sighed and ran his hands through his hair.  He looked out across the jungle, trying to find any sign of where he needed to go.  He wasn’t sure if it was her voice, or if he had imagined it, but something whispered into his mind to stop being so damned literal.  Of course, the Force was nothing if not indirect.

The canopy of trees faded away, replaced by what appeared to be the galaxy, though smaller.  Systems stretched out below and around him like a star map.  Planets and moons moved almost imperceptibly.  He had to find her, and he wondered if it could be that simple.  How maddening the Force riddles had been in the past made him second guess his first impulse, but he wouldn’t know unless he tried.

“You don’t have any hints at all?”

Nadja shook her head, but stood and placed her hand into his.  “I can take you across, but you have to lead.”

“And if I guess wrong?”

“We have until her body gives out.  So, don’t sightsee.”

Poe frowned.  That wasn’t the sort of reassurance he was looking for.  He didn’t need, or want, further clarification on what she meant, just knew that he couldn’t afford any mistake.

Her hand squeezed his and she gave him a hopeful look.  “Trust your instincts.”

With a quick nod, Poe stepped out from the peak of the Massassi Temple into the field of stars.  He went to the first place he thought of—the first place he had found her.  Instantly, they were inside the derelict freighter, though without the bulky vacc suits this time.  It was also lit enough to see, which was a nice touch.  He followed the corridors down into the belly of the ship, to the large cargo hold with its rows of long defunct carbonite chambers.

Except this time, there was only one.  Standing upright in the center of the hold.

Empty.

Poe swallowed back the disappointment.  He thought for sure this was it—this was where he _had_ found her.  As he ran his fingers over the empty container and shook his head, he tried to make sense of it.  Tried to put the pieces together in his mind.

“She… she wasn’t aware she was here.  This place, it didn’t have any meaning for her.”  Euli had woken up on D’Qar, but there wasn’t anything “found” about her then, either.  The clues were slow in coming and it wasn’t until they were at the tree that her memories returned.  “But we’re already at the tree.”

“Are you looking?”  Nadja asked him, peeking out from behind the freezing chamber.

“Yes,”  he responded, annoyed.  “Does the Force not want me to find her?  Is that why you’re not helping?”

“The Force doesn’t want things,”  she told him calmly with a matter-of-factness to her voice.  She seemed unperturbed by his exasperation and his hostile tone.

“I don’t know where to look!”

“It’s not about where.  It’s about how.”

“That is not helpful.”

With a bounce to her movements, Nadja moved from behind the block of carbonite to in front of him.  Standing on her tip-toes, she pressed her hands over his eyes.

“How is this supposed to help?”  he asked with a sigh.

“ _See_.”

“How do I see with—“

Poe pushed her hands down and gasped as he found himself in the hangar of an old Mon Cal cruiser—except, it wasn’t old.  Around him were steaming fighters—the heat of their spent guns clashing with the moist environment of the ship.  The fighters as well were models that were more than half a century old, but looked almost new.  Droids, workers with carts, and exhausted looking pilots all rushed around him.  He weaved his way through the crowds, the Force-version of his daughter still at his heels, until he found one scarred Y-Wing with a bright yellow strip of paint and its pilot pacing nearby.

Her black hair was pushed flat by the helmet she had been wearing.  Her flight suit—classic safety orange—was unzipped and hanging open showing off a sweat-stained black tank top underneath.  She was mad, he could tell, the way her feet took angry steps back and forth and the hissed explicatives under her breath.

“Hey,”  he said, breathing out slowly.  “I found you.”

Euli stopped and looked at him.  The scowl on her face deepened as she looked him over.  “Good for you.  What do you want?”

“Uh—“  Well, shit.  She didn’t tell him what to do after he found her.  He thought perhaps she had some sort of plan or idea of what would happen.  It seemed she didn’t even recognize him, like he had found her in an old memory.  “How was the mission?”

“Fine.  If you’re some errand boy for Lumar, tell him he’ll get his report when he gets it and to get off my back.”  She turned away from him, stalking back towards her fighter.

“I was just asking because you seemed upset,”  he called after her.

She turned around, still frowning at him, but some of the sudden anger seemed to dissipate, if only slightly.

“Lumar’s an old wardog,”  Poe said.  “Pushy, but he knows talent.  That’s why he’s riding you so hard.”

“ _Talent_ ,”  she scoffed at him.  “ _Gifted_.  And a hundred other words to mean bantha shit space magic that only puts a giant target on my head.”  She surged back towards him, her finger jabbing him in the chest hard enough to make him want to recoil back in pain, but he didn’t.  “That’s _not_ what makes me a good pilot.”

“I know.  It’s hard work and a lot of training hours.  It’s spending evenings with your astromech instead of your organic friends to learn their quirks.  It’s putting in so much time, your bird feels like an extension of yourself.”

She looked at him, her anger having fallen almost completely away.  It was replaced by a touch of confusion, and also validation.  Her head nodded slightly and she pulled her angry finger away from him.

“The Force doesn’t _make_ you anything.  It amplifies what’s already there.”

Poe wasn’t sure where those words had come from, though he believed them.  Perhaps it had been something Luke or Leia had said long ago that he had absorbed somewhere along the line, or maybe it was an idea he’d somehow picked up from this place.  Either way, he wasn’t sure his words hit the note he wanted.  The anger didn’t come back, but there was the quiet introspection he recognized when she was working through an uncomfortable thought.

“It’ll amplify the anger, the hate.  I don’t—I don’t think I want that.”

She looked frightened, and Poe realized she never really hated the Force.  She was terrified of it.  From being the small girl that grew up inside the Empire’s anti-Jedi propaganda machine, to the Rebellion and seeing exactly what happened to those who believed in the Force and sought to restore the Republic.  So few of the events that had happened in her exceptionally long life had shown her that the Force wasn’t some horrific monstrosity, wielded by those seeking to control the galaxy.  Every time she would finally make the decision to engage with it, it would bite back, reminded her that it was dangerous.

“You’re the one in the pilot’s seat, Euli.  You’re at the controls.  You call the shots.”  Poe watched her intently, trying to read every possible reaction she could give him.  More than anything, he just wanted to reach out and crush her to him, but he knew she would just pull away.  She wasn’t there, yet.  _Come on, sweetheart.  Meet me halfway._

There was a long pause as she watched him in return.  Her head tilted slightly, and she looked at him differently.  Her lips quirked into a smile as her eyes grazed across his features, from his brow to his nose, down further.  “Do I know you, pilot?”  she asked.

“Not yet.”

“That sounds like an invitation.”

“A warning, maybe,”  he said with a grin.

“Is this your sister?”  she asked, jerking her head towards the girl standing behind him.  “You two look alike.”

“Not exactly.  Come here, kiddo.”  For not actually being their daughter, Nadja did look excited to be standing there with Poe’s arm draped over her shoulders and facing a young, slightly confused Euli.  “Look at her.  Real close.  Tell me if you recognize her.”

Euli raised an eyebrow at Poe, but smiled at the girl and humored the both of them.  She looked at her the same way that she had looked at him—the way that he knew she was seeing beyond sight.  And Poe saw the second the part of her mind that was reliving this moment reconnected with the rest of her.  The moment when she saw the both of them for who they truly were.  The moment that he had found her—or she had found him.  Her hand reached up and covered her mouth as the tears filled her eyes.  She had seen him, but she couldn’t stop staring at Nadja.

For the first time since he’d arrived in this strange place, he wondered if he had been wrong.  If it really was his infant daughter standing next to him.

“Poe, I—“  Euli could barely make the words, but he could suddenly feel everything that was happening.

Something, somewhere, in the fabric of space or time—something ethereal he didn’t understand—stitches were being made.  She surged forward and wrapped her arms around the both of them.  The vision of the ship and the fighters fell away from them and it was just their small family in the great white space with their arms holding tightly onto one another.

Poe could feel the hole in his chest, the one that had been there since the _Finalizer_.  The one that made him feel like he was drowning.  Instead of being filled with the pain and the guilt, it was like light erupting up from the bottom.  It ballooned out and enveloped them, and it was warm, like a cleansing fire.  The energy wrapped and pulsed around them until it was gone and it was just Poe and Euli with their arms around each other in the dark under the tree, back home.

“Do you feel that?”  she whispered hoarsely into his shoulder.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Euli pulled back slowly and in the dim light he could see the tears staining her face, but she wasn’t sad.  In fact, she looked the happiest he’d ever seen her—and that was something after the day they’d just had.  Her hands reached up and rubbed across his face, down his chest before curling around him and squeezing tightly again.

“You’re alive,”  she gasped.

“Of course I am, sweetheart,”  he said with a laugh as he planted a fierce kiss on her forehead.

She laughed, too, and lifted her face to kiss him.  “I know.  I know.”

Poe knew, too, though he couldn’t explain it.  There weren’t the right words to describe how he knew she was there, right there.  The glow she emitted that he would know anywhere—in a crowded room, in a pitch black cave—he’d always find her.  That feeling of lacking was gone, replaced by the light that had been missing.  They stood there for several long seconds, holding each other and relishing in the new-old feeling.

“Do you think it was really her?”  Poe asked finally.

Euli looked at him, but she didn’t answer right away.  Maybe she didn’t know, or just didn’t know how to phrase it so it would make sense.  “We all exist together.  Perhaps it was enough of her to lead me back.”  She leaned back against him and mumbled into his shirt,  “She’s awake, now.”

“Good thing Pop’s watching her tonight so we can enjoy our marriage night.”  He grinned and kissed her.

“I want to see her.  Just settle her back down.”

Poe smiled and brushed his hand over her cheek.  “Me, too.”

As they walked back to the house, Poe glanced over his shoulder towards the tree.  He didn’t know what the future held—whether they’d win the war, or a thousand other things that would keep him away from his family.  There was hope though, in a future where his daughter grew up happy and healthy.  He’d make sure he got to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every single person who has read and followed this story and the whole series! I'd like to specially thank my amazing beta, Tafferling. Her support and suggestions have meant the absolute world to me and this story never would have gotten finished without her. <3 Thank you also to Toast, Deej, ZoeDameron, and aoi6 for reading and commenting on nearly every chapter--you guys are super heroes and I love you.
> 
> After all that angst, I hope the ending was satisfying and answered any lingering questions. I'd love to hear what you think!! Thank you again!!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://rinskiroo.tumblr.com/).


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